Rebuilding Life
by Kezzabear
Summary: Harry has defeated Voldemort but is going back to his life going to be easy? What will he go back to, the life he once had is meaningless now. It's time to build a new one and to create a new post-Voldemort world.
1. Chapter 1

**Mourning Fred**

As Harry cracked his eyes open he noticed that the sun was creating the same reddish glow he'd seen before he'd gone to sleep. Through the blur he couldn't be sure whether this was because the sun was setting or he just hadn't been asleep for very long and it was still daybreak. As he stirred himself to reach for his glasses a rustle broke the silence and he heard Ron speak.

"About time mate! I thought you were going to sleep all of today as well!"

"Shush Ron! It's barely dawn!"

Harry sat up, startled. He seemed to be in his dormitory judging by the blurry red hangings on the four-poster he was in. By the colour of the light, he judged it was dawn. Hermione most definitely should not be in his dormitory at dawn.

"Oh I am so glad you're awake, Harry!" said Hermione. Her beaming face came into view as Harry located his glasses and hastily shoved them onto his face. She was definitely in his dormitory at dawn. "Mrs Weasley's going to barge in here and wake you herself if you didn't wake up soon. I think she wants to feed you."

"How long have I been out?" Harry asked.

"Just a day; it's morning again, but you'd better hurry up. I don't know how much longer Kreacher will be able to hold mum off."

"Kreacher?" he asked, wondering why the house elf would want to hold off anyone from feeding him. His stomach grumbled rather loudly, as if in answer to his question.

"Yeah, he's determined to ensure that no one disturbs 'Master Harry'," explained Ron. "He's like a little sentinel at the bottom of the boys' staircase. Dad had to conjure sleeping bags for all the boys to use in the common room. Kreacher only let us up here after half an hour of Hermione persuading him. Ginny was not impressed."

As Ron explained all this Hermione tactfully retreated behind a rather large tome allowing Harry to emerge from his bed and rummage about for his robes.

"Is anyone else up yet?" he asked. He was hungry and not particularly interested in talking with anyone before breakfast.

"Apart from Mum, nope," said Ron. "We could go now and avoid everyone else. Breakfast should be on in the Great Hall any minute now. Reckon Mum's right. You look a bit peaky, could do with some fattening up." Ron eyed Harry critically and out the corner of his eye Harry saw Hermione raise her eyebrows as she gazed at him as well. He sensed their next question and stiffened before Hermione spoke.

"Exactly how did you convince Voldemort you were dead Harry? I mean you look bad, but not that bad," she asked. Harry could almost see the cogs turning in her head. Her eyebrows were drawn together the way they did when she was working on a particularly tricky Arithmancy problem and she'd narrowed her eyes as if inspecting 

him under some sort of microscope.

"Gee, thanks Hermione." Harry didn't want to discuss it right then, especially not with Hermione in the analytical mood she was probably in – given the way she was tapping her finger on her leg. She did that when she was trying to solve a problem lately. Harry didn't know whether to be grateful it gave him a clue or annoyed because it was a truly irritating habit. He didn't think he could take analysis on an empty stomach. Ron seemed either to sense this or was equally unwilling to discuss anything on an empty stomach and Harry did not miss the look he and Hermione exchanged as Harry hesitated.

"I don't want to talk about it," he mumbled and lapsed into a broody silence. When his and Ron's stomachs rumbled in unison, Harry sighed and headed for the door.

"We'd best rescue your mum from Kreacher then … or will we be rescuing Kreacher from her?"

But Mrs Weasley was not in sight as they exited the boys' staircase into a common room strewn with sleeping bodies. Harry saw Mr. Weasley surrounded by Bill, Fleur, Percy, and Charlie. He gathered that Mrs Weasley and Ginny were in the girls' dorms and wondered briefly where Fred and George were before he remembered that Fred was gone and couldn't be there. Not even the sight of Neville, Seamus and Dean curled up together under one of the study tables next to the window could shift the melancholy feeling that settled in his stomach. Dennis Creevey was huddled in the foetal position near the dormitory stairs. As he stood there, gazing at Dennis's tear streaked face, Kreacher bounded into sight.

"Master Harry! Master Harry! You've been asleep for so long, you need to eat! If you don't eat you'll fade away into nothing!" Kreacher launched into a seemingly endless rant and began pushing and pulling Harry towards the portrait hole.

"Dunno why we were worried about mum trying to feed you up. He's got her beat!"

As they got to the portrait hole Harry noticed the occupants of the room begin to stir.

"Stop, stop Kreacher! I'll go and have breakfast gladly, I'm hungrier than a hippogriff but let's go to the kitchens, all right?" Harry didn't want company and he knew the occupants of Gryffindor tower were probably only some of the castle's occupants who would seek him out if he went to the Great Hall for breakfast. Kreacher acquiesced and promised to go on ahead and arrange for food while Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way more sedately down to the painting and tickled the pear to gain access to the kitchens.

The kitchens seemed busy and quiet all at the same time. It was as if the house elves who busied themselves preparing mountains of food were far off in the distance. The area by the fireplace was an oasis of calm in comparison. Just before he sank into a plush armchair in front of the fire Harry noticed they weren't alone. Sitting in a chair just to the left of the glowing embers and cradling a steaming mug was George. Harry froze in his tracks. An icy fist clenched his heart and the dull feeling from the common room moved up from his stomach and settled around his heart making his 

chest ache.

"What's up mate?" Ron asked Harry. His voice shattered the stillness and George looked up. Harry could see the tear tracks that streaked through the dirt and dust still on his face and as he gazed at them his eyes filled and tears began dripping down his cheeks once more. Hermione pushed past Ron and Harry and approached George, kneeling in front of him.

"George," she questioned softly, "would you like us to go?" George shook his head carefully but did not speak as his face began to crumple and his hands began to shake. Hermione carefully extricated the mug from his hands and set it on the hearth before folding George into a hug as he began to weep loudly on her shoulder. Ron strode quickly over to them, crouching and pulling them both into a hug, his tall frame overwhelming both the other two, shorter figures. Harry wasn't sure what he should do but before he could decide anything he heard footsteps behind him. Turning, he saw Bill and Charlie walking backwards watching Percy's attempts to extricate himself from the portrait frame through which they had come. He was having little success and appeared to be stuck.

"I really don't know how you two knew how to sneak into the kitchens," he was muttering. "Really I would have expected better; Prefects, both of you."

"Don't look at me, Percy. I was a model student," insisted Bill. "I had no more idea than you! Ask Charlie how he knows!" Charlie raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Seriously Perce," said Charlie, "I was at Hogwarts with the twins for two years, they might not have confided in you, but how long do you think it took them to find the kitchens?"

"Fred found the door handle first term," said George hollowly. Bill and Charlie started and spun around while George's voice appeared to jolt Percy free from the portrait frame. The effect was the same as if George had been standing behind Percy and pushed him through. Percy fell onto the stone floor with a thud.

"George, Mum's been looking for you," said Bill softly, joining Ron, George and Hermione in front of the fireplace. He nodded at Harry and Ron. "I think she'll be relieved we found you lot as well. Hermione, can you go and tell her we found you all, so she can stop worrying?" Hermione nodded, carefully extracting herself from Ron and George. Harry moved to follow her when Charlie shot out an arm, detaining him. Harry raised his eyebrows at him but Charlie only shook his head imperceptibly and then jerked his head in Bill's direction. Harry followed Charlie and Percy to the fireplace where Bill conjured another two chairs and produced a bottle of Firewhisky from a pocket in his robes.

"What am I going to do Bill?" George asked plaintively, turning a tear streaked face towards them. Percy's protest at the production of alcohol died on his lips.

"We toast," said Bill. "We drink to our brother and give him the best send off he could have … and then we rebuild and we go on. We go on living for him. We make this world something worth dying for, and we never forget him. Ever. That's what you're going to do."

As he spoke, Bill conjured six glasses, handed them around and began pouring Firewhisky into each one. Ron held out an arm to George, hauling him to his feet. George composed himself a fraction and raised his glass.

"To rebuilding, to living, to brotherhood, to Fred."

"That's it little brother, get that down," Bill said as he pulled Harry down into a seat. Harry's throat burned and his eyes stung but he wasn't sure if it was from the Firewhisky or because of what Bill had said.

Harry felt a warm glow as he looked around at his companions and he knew that it had very little to do with the Firewhisky. The six of them passed the morning in front of the fireplace in the kitchen. They were fed copiously by solicitous house- elves and polished off the bottle of Firewhisky while they shared outrageous stories about Fred.

"Remember when he was trying to start the car, Ron?" said George. "He was half asleep and kept refusing to start it because he thought it would be too noisy!"

"That was the whole point," chortled Ron. "We had to start the car to make it fly and go and get Harry." Ron was a little inebriated and nearly fell off his chair as he tried to throw an arm around Harry's shoulder.

"He was a good driver though," sobbed George. "He made it all the way to Surrey and back." Ron nodded carefully.

"Remember that time he made my Head Boy badge say 'Big Head Boy'," said Percy and it sounded for a moment as if he considered that to be a fond memory. "He was so smart." As Percy dissolved into Firewhisky induced tears George sat up straight.

"Hey! That was my idea!"

Bill told a story that none of the others could remember involving baby Fred, six spoons and a bucket of dirt and Ron recounted all the times Fred had turned him blue, pink or into a toad. At one point Harry wondered dimly why Mrs. Weasley hadn't come to fetch them, Hermione seemed to be taking an awfully long time but he was distracted in his musings by Charlie who had broken a lull in the conversation.

"What about the time Fred stuck me to the ceiling," he said taking a swig from his glass. "Damn good spell that and he taught it to Ginny. That might come in very handy for our little sister. It's a good place to stick the boys that are bothering her."

"Fred told me the other day he had a great idea about what to do next time Ginny admits to having a boyfriend," confided George. "She's been avoiding that question all year. Fred was really close to getting it out of her too. I could feel it! No idea how long it'll take us now, we'll have to start from scratch." Harry froze and Ron burst out laughing. Charlie looked thoughtful.

"What do you think he was going to do to the bloke, George?"

"No idea, I think it involved fireworks and enclosed spaces though," replied George. "Always had a fondness for fireworks did our Fred."

Bill and Charlie nodded as if this were a perfectly acceptable solution to a small insect infestation while Ron caught the look on Harry's face and simply laughed harder. For his part, Harry began to sink as far into the plush chair as he could manage, trying to remain completely inconspicuous and wondering how he was going to escape.

"I really don't think Ginevra is going to go for this idea fellows," said Percy slowly, enunciating every word carefully. Harry thought Percy might possibly be drunker than the rest of them put together. "If she finds out you are plotting anything she'll Bat Bogey you in a heartbeat."

George conceded that this may very well be a valid point and the Weasley brothers sank into a contemplative state with Ron punctuating the silence with muffled laughter that none of them, in their drunken stupor, thought to question.

"Do you think she's got a bloke right now though?" Charlie broke the silence. "I mean it's been a bit of a rough year, lots going on. Maybe we've got time to prepare? Our plans could be executed swiftly if we have a little time to prepare."

Harry sprayed a mouthful of Firewhisky over an unsuspecting George and some stray droplets caused the fire to flare up. Suddenly Harry was as sober as a judge and looked rather fearfully at the five fully grown wizards he was sitting with. Make that four. Ron hardly looked fearsome as he renewed his vigorous laughter rolling on the hearthrug.

"You all right there Harry?" asked Bill solicitously. "Mum'll probably kill us if we get you two really pickled. Come to that Fleur might have a bit to say to me …"

Amidst gentle ribbing about his married status Bill motioned his brothers to their feet, vanished the glasses and the extra chairs and slung an arm around George. As he led George back to the door of the kitchen Harry swore he heard Bill say that they would finish Fred's last work and find the slimeball going out with Ginny and deal with him good and proper. Ron's laughter echoed throughout the kitchen and as the portrait swung shut Harry heard Percy ask Ron if he hadn't flipped his lid completely and what on earth was so funny.

There was no way Harry was going anywhere near those boys.

He wasn't sure exactly how long it was until he heard the painting swing open and Mr Weasley entered. He scanned the room.

"Ah there you are Harry," said Mr Weasley. "Seems Ron was right, you've not gone far after all. Got the womenfolk in a knot upstairs there."

"I'm sorry Mr Weasley," Harry apologised. "I didn't mean for anyone to worry."

"The boys thought you were with them," explained Mr Weasley. "But considering they are a wee bit tipsy … well, I'm not surprised they didn't realise you weren't there. They're carrying on something shocking about ferreting out 'the slimeball' and defending Ginny's honour. I'm really not sure I want to know about that." Mr Weasley said all this conversationally, as if his sons getting drunk and seeking revenge on slimeballs who sought to dishonour their sister was an everyday occurrence.

"They want to finish the project Fred was working on before he died … er, identify Ginny's latest boyfriend and finish him off," explained Harry. "Um … I really couldn't be a part of that."

"Oh I'm sure they'd welcome your help there Harry. They see you as their brother, you know," said Mr Weasley and Harry thought he heard a hint of humour in the other man's voice but when he looked Mr Weasley seemed old and weary, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes etched deep on his pale face. There was very little humour in his face and he looked like a man who had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"I'd not be so sure about that if they knew," muttered Harry. He paused and watched as Mr Weasley stood there looking into the fireplace. "I'm sorry Mr Weasley, about Fred. I – I …" He trailed off, unsure what he was trying to say, unsure what he wanted to say.

"I know, son," said Mr Weasley gently, the grief on his face becoming more prominent. "I know. Now I came down here to let you know you've got a visitor. Best come up and see."

Harry was not at all keen on entertaining visitors and wondered briefly if he could avoid it, but the look on Mr Weasley's face stopped him. It was clear that he should go and see this visitor and so he wearily rose from his chair and moved towards the portrait frame that marked the doorway leading from the kitchen back to the halls of Hogwarts.

"Harry?" He turned back at the sound of Mr Weasley's voice. "Thank you, son, thank you." Harry just looked sadly at him and nodded before climbing through the kitchen entrance to go and greet his mystery visitor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Mourning Remus**

"They won't really hurt you, you know." Mr Weasley smiled as they walked companionably towards the Entrance Hall. "Besides, if they try it Molly will have their heads. They'll figure that out as soon as they realise." Harry was startled and stopped to stare at the other man.

"Our daughter may not tell her brothers everything, but she usually tells her mother," Mr Weasley said and gave a wry chuckle. "Molly, of course, tells me everything." He smiled and motioned Harry to continue walking.

"Ron was filthy at me," said Harry. "Not for going out with her, he was okay with that part. Mind you, Hermione and I had to duck a few heated conversations between him and Ginny about displays of affection. You heard about Lavender I suspect?" Mr Weasley nodded a smile still on his face and motioned for Harry to continue.

"Ron was filthy at me when I, er … when I, well …"

"When you ditched her?" asked Mr Weasley bluntly. Harry cringed. Mr Weasley reached over and patted him on the shoulder. "No one could fault you there, Harry. Not even Ginny if she's honest with herself."

They continued the rest of the way in silence. Harry started to enter the Great Hall. Ron and his brothers were sitting with Hermione at the end of the Gryffindor table listening to Neville intently. Some of the teachers sat at the head table and groups of students were scattered randomly about the house tables chatting and eating what appeared to be lunch. He couldn't see Mrs Weasley or Ginny. He briefly wondered where they were before Mr Weasley tapped him on the shoulder and motioned him to a small room a short distance away. As they got closer Harry could hear muffled sobs coming from the room. He sighed, just his luck that his visitor appeared to be a crying female.

"Mr Weasley, I'm not at all good with crying women!" he protested. "I don't know what to do with them at all. That's why Ginny – well, er, who is it and why does she want to see me?"

"Oh no, Harry, that's not your visitor," exclaimed Mr Weasley. "I am sure she'll want to see you when she composes herself though. I'll just nip in and get your visitor shall I?" Harry could only nod as he stood nervously in the Entrance Hall.

It wasn't long before Mr Weasley emerged from the room, this time carrying a bundle in his arms. It wriggled and had a tuft of turquoise hair. Harry took a few steps back and Mr Weasley laughed softly at the look of terror on his face.

"It's okay Harry, he's not crying." Harry heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Neville exit the Great Hall just as Mr Weasley reached him he stopped only long enough to make sure Harry wasn't going to drop the bundle before whispering that Molly needed him to help her with their other guest.

Harry was left standing in the Entrance Hall with a wriggling, squirming bundle. It was a baby. His godson, Teddy, and Harry had no idea what to do with him. Too scared to look at the baby, Harry instead chose to stare fixedly at the crooked hat on a portrait of a witch who had clearly been drinking with Violet and The Fat Lady.

"Crikey Harry! I didn't think that was the reason Ginny didn't come back to school! Her brothers are going to kill you," Neville's voice seemed abnormally loud as it broke the stillness. Harry started and swung around to face Neville.

"What?" he croaked, "This isn't my baby, or Ginny's baby or – What on earth makes you think that?"

"Well Mr Weasley came and handed you that baby," Neville shrugged. "Ginny never came back to school after Easter, so…"

"Well he's not ours!" said Harry exasperatedly. "He doesn't look like us! We haven't, we didn't!" He spluttered to a stop, staring at Neville in horror.

"You think I'd take advantage of her like that?"

"No Harry I don't think that but er, well maybe you can teach him to stop changing colours like that?" Harry looked down at Teddy for the first time and saw a pair of bright green eyes that mirrored his own looking back at him curiously. The baby's hair had turned a lovely shade of Weasley red. Little Teddy Lupin currently looked exactly like a cross between him and Ginny to the casual observer. But Harry was not a casual observer and as he looked at Teddy he saw Tonks gazing out at him from Remus's face, little fat fists waving about as he stared fascinated at Harry's glasses. Harry looked up at Neville and swallowed heavily, blinking back the tears he could feel were coming.

"I'm his godfather," he whispered. "This is Professor Lupin's son. Voldemort … Death Eaters have taken his parents. All he's got is his godfather, me and – and his grandmother." He didn't think he could hold back the tears much longer as the enormity of it all hit him with force and he turned away from Neville and looked back down at Teddy who was still gazing at him serenely.

"He's got me too," whispered Neville, "he's got me too." Neville sounded on the brink of tears himself and Harry chanced a look at him.

"He'll need us, Harry." Harry nodded. He knew that was true and he knew that Teddy wasn't going to suffer the same way that he and Neville had. He knew that as the last of his father's friends and his godfather Harry could give to Teddy the things he never had. He knew that Neville would understand and Harry smiled tearfully at Neville.

"Yeah, he's got us, hasn't he?" Together the three of them slowly walked towards the Entrance Doors, pushed them open and stood in the sunlight, watching the first Voldemort free day. Teddy's little fist finally made contact with its goal and he knocked Harry's glasses askew, grinning up at Harry with a toothless gummy smile and Harry felt his resolve crumble. This smiley little infant had no idea what he'd lost, no idea what sacrifice had been made for him, no idea the enormity of what had just happened and no idea that Harry had lost the last link to his parents. But at that moment the enormity of it hit Harry hard and he sank to the stone steps and tears began to drip down his cheeks as he began to shake with huge wracking sobs. He clutched tighter to Teddy and sobbed into his blankets as the infant began to bat his fists jerkily around Harry's head, tangling fat fingers in his hair.

Harry didn't notice Neville dash back into the Great Hall or hear the stampede of people rushing out again. It was only when he heard a slight commotion and felt a soft hand touch his shoulder that he raised his head to see Mrs Weasley looking tearfully at him. The door to the Entrance Hall behind her was blocked by five imposing red heads and Neville while the inhabitants of Hogwarts argued with Bill Weasley who insisted that no one was going near Harry except his family, it had, after all, been a long week.

"Harry," Mrs Weasley said softly, "let me take Teddy. Andromeda will look after him. We can have a talk." Harry stared at her unseeing. He did not relinquish his grip on Teddy and tears continued to drip down his face. Teddy began to squirm and whimper softly as Mr Weasley and Mrs Tonks made their way past Charlie. Harry turned to look out across the grounds as tears continued to fall silently onto Teddy's blankets.

"Harry, come on, let's get you inside."

"Harry," and a hand touched his hair, smoothing it from his face. "Come on Harry. Let's have something to eat." He did not answer them and he did not let Teddy go. He ignored the frantic whispering behind him and looked down at the baby in his arms who stopped wriggling and gazed at him solemnly. The enormity of what had happened and what was still to be done weighed heavily on his mind. He stared as Teddy's hair changed to black and his eyes went brown but he didn't really see. What was he going to do now?

"Harry," said Mr Weasley softly. "Come inside." Harry continued to look at Teddy as the baby blew bubbles with his mouth, his tiny hands reaching again for Harry's glasses. The frantic whispering behind him grew louder and a commotion began to erupt

"Let me take him, Harry," a soft warm voice whispered and he felt a small, warm hand cover his own. Without really thinking about it he let the small hands take the baby and then he let them encircle him in a hug as the owner of those small warm hands stroked his hair and her voice whispered words of comfort in his ear while he cried on her shoulder, enveloped in her flowery scent.


	3. Chapter 3

**Mourning Childhood**

Harry had no idea how long he stayed there on the steps of Hogwarts in Ginny's arms. He stayed long after his tears had dried up and he felt like a wrung out wet rag, listless and unable to move. The whole time, Ginny held him, soothing and comforting. It could have been hours later when he sat up slowly. He had no idea, he'd lost track of the time. Taking his glasses from his face he examined the salty tear spots that streaked the lenses and cleaned them on the hem of his shirt. He put his glasses back on and looked up at Ginny. She was gazing at him with a small smile on her lips.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi," Harry whispered back. "I was going to look for you but I got a bit … erm, waylaid by your brothers and then your dad-" Harry broke off and turned to stare out over the grounds, looking at the pockets of devastation that still marked the battle that had been fought. He felt Ginny entwine her small fingers with his larger ones and softly caress his hand and he looked down at their hands, joined together.

"I don't have anything to do alone anymore," he said. "No one's trying to get to me. We can be together, if you want to." Harry looked up at her and Ginny smiled.

"I'd like that Harry," she whispered, and without thinking about it Harry leaned over and captured her lips in a kiss. He felt her hands slide up his arms and sneak into his hair and as he deepened the kiss he slid his own hands down her sides and his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him, sliding one hand up into her hair and caressing her neck. The sensation of being in her arms and kissing her again made him feel just a little bit giddy but he didn't want to stop. He wanted it to go on forever. Some of the pain and despair seemed to melt away as he lost himself in her embrace and the good memories and the happy feelings overshadowed the despair he had been feeling earlier.

"Oi!" Harry dragged his lips away from Ginny and gave her a little crooked grin. Then he turned to look at Ron who was standing at the top of the steps in front of the closed doors glaring daggers at him. Harry just smiled benignly before standing up and looking down at Ginny.

"Want to go for a walk?" he asked. Ginny nodded and turned to Ron and gave him a little wave as she rose to her feet. Clasping her hand Harry tugged her down the steps and they headed off into the sunshine.

"Don't think I'm not going to tell George!" Ron muttered as they left. Harry just laughed, it felt good to laugh but suddenly all wrong and he stopped abruptly.

"What does that mean?" Ginny was saying. "Who cares what he tells George? It's not like what I do is any of his business." She stopped as Harry pulled her closer to his side.

"What am I going to do now, Ginny? There's so much left to do. There are so many lives that have been ruined. So many people have died," Harry's voice cracked on the last word and he stumbled over his next thought. "How do we start to rebuild from here? What do I need to do now?"

"Harry, listen to me," Ginny said as she stopped and turned him to face her. "We don't have to know all the answers now. We don't have to make all our plans now. You don't have to be the grown up now. Let the Ministry figure out how to rebuild, let the adults do it. They've done it before, you can help them. They don't need to help you anymore. You said you don't have anything to do alone now. Let someone else do it." She suddenly looked very small and it seemed as though a veil of sadness had suddenly been drawn over her face.

"If anyone's got a right to mourn Harry, it's you," said Ginny. "I don't think you've ever really done that, not properly." Tears began to cascade down Ginny's cheeks. "It's not fair that you haven't had a chance to do that before. Because it hurts so badly and you just need so much to – to say, say goodbye." And then Harry was gathering her to him and stroking her hair and whispering words of comfort into her ear as she cried into his shirt. Before long the tears were falling from his own eyes again and the two of them stood together and cried.

Harry and Ginny sat, tangled together under a beech tree by the side of the lake. Harry had told her, haltingly, when she insisted, about Fred's death and held her as she cried, his own grief dripping tears that mingled with her own.

"Do you think it's wrong," whispered Ginny, "that when I saw Fred I felt … sad, unbelievable sadness and grief but that when I saw Hagrid with – with you it was like someone had completely ripped out my heart?" Harry swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat.

"I don't know, Ginny. I don't think there is a right way to express grief," Harry said caressing her face and wiping away the tears.

"It was terrifying," she whispered. "And it hurt so much." Harry watched her struggle not to cry and pulled her to him. She buried her face in his chest and clung to him and not for the first time that afternoon Harry bent his head to kiss her. Ginny's fingers dug into his shoulders and a sob escaped her throat as he tilted her face up and covered her lips with his own. She responded to his kiss frantically, desperately. He pulled away breathlessly, watching her take the same gasping breaths he was as she tried to control her grief. Her eyes were closed and there were tear drops clinging to her eyelashes.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," whispered Harry in between the kisses he trailed down her neck. His worst fear had been not having Ginny to come back to. If he had even thought that had come true it would have destroyed him. He could only imagine the torture Ginny must have felt as she saw him, apparently dead, in Hagrid's arms.

"I'm so glad you're not dead," she sobbed, losing control of her emotions. "I feel like I shouldn't be glad because so many people are dead and I'm just glad it's them and not you." They held each other close under the beech tree as the sun moved lower in the sky.

"Teddy needs me you know," Harry said much later as he stared out across the lake. "I can't afford to fall apart like I did today. He needs me so much."

"It's okay that you cried, Harry," Ginny replied. "You can't ignore how you feel."

"But I can't let him down," whispered Harry desperately. "Who will tell him that they love him and about his parents and be there for him?"

"We all will, Harry," reassured Ginny. "And he's got his grandmother. He won't be alone." Harry shook his head.

"I know all that's important, but he needs ime/i," he fiercely. "No one else knows what it is like … except maybe Neville." Harry closed his eyes as tears he didn't think he had left threatened to fall again.

"But that doesn't mean you can't cry Harry," Ginny said softly as she stroked his arm. "Being there for him doesn't mean you have to be … stoic. It just means you have to be there." They sat in silence for a few moments.

"I'm going to buy him his first broomstick," said Harry eventually. "Sirius bought me my first broomstick, did you know that?" He searched the pouch around his neck and pulled out the torn photograph of himself as a baby.

"Oh you were so cute," exclaimed Ginny. Harry shook his head in mild amusement.

"He taught me to ride it too," he said, "before he wasn't there anymore; before he couldn't buy me any more broomsticks. I have to be there for Teddy." His voice broke; thinking about the Firebolt Sirius had bought him when he was thirteen, the one that made up for twelve years of Christmas and birthday presents. Ginny looked up from the photograph, understanding dawning in her eyes. She reached out a hand to stroke his cheek.

"You are nothing like Sirius, Harry."

"I am, I'm impulsive and reckless and I do things without thinking-"

"You are going to be there for Teddy," she interrupted firmly. "We all will. He'll have so much love he won't know what to do with it." There were tears sliding down her cheeks and Harry wiped them away with trembling fingers.

"I want him to know how much they loved him," he whispered. "That they died to protect him; all that stuff I never knew when I was little. I want him to have a happy childhood." It struck him anew that not only had he been denied his magical heritage and treated rather poorly, to put it mildly, for ten years but that any remaining vestiges of his childhood had fled by the end of his first year at Hogwarts. If he tried he could catch flashes of it here and there but they were transparent, ethereal and too hard to grasp.

As the sun began to set Harry was exhausted and spent of his energy, too tired to move from under the beech tree. Too tired to wonder if Ron had told George anything; too tired to go back inside to eat. Yet he felt strangely lighter than he had been that morning.

"Thank you," he whispered because talking seemed too loud in the still, quiet peace of the Hogwarts grounds. "Thank you for listening, for being here. I couldn't do this without you, Ginny. I don't want to do this without you. It's been agony to be away from you, not knowing how you are, hearing only snippets of what's happening to you. I don't want to be away from you again. I couldn't bear it." Ginny nodded and reached a hand up to cup his face.

"I know," she said. "It's been awful." She leaned in to kiss him soundly and not for the first time since they'd taken a seat under that tree did they lose themselves in a searing kiss filled with promises and passion and yearning. And that's why Harry didn't see Charlie approaching or hear Ron grumbling about being late to the evening meal because parents wanted them to locate errant siblings. That's why Ginny didn't realise Bill and Percy were calling her name.

And why Harry and Ginny sprang apart suddenly when George, apparently from quite nearby, groaned dramatically.

"Oh no! This cannot be happening," he cried. "I cannot be seeing what I think I am seeing, no wonder she never told us anything! Such rich opportunities for taking the mickey; completely wasted!" Ginny glared up at him.

"What on earth is that supposed to mean?" she demanded. Harry decided to keep very still and very quiet.

"Well, we – I," George faltered. "I – I can't give you a serve now. Before he saved the world, yeah we could have completely taken the mickey out of you, trussed him up and put him in enclosed spaces. But not now! Now, now I have to all but ignore the fact that ickle Ginny's got a bloke dangling from her little finger and wrapped around it! How do I possibly mock and intimidate him now?"

"Yeah, because mum would have made that possible before," said Ron. "At least you lot haven't had to put up with it, and the mooning and the sighing. He has been mooning and sighing for a _year_."

"She's been moping," retorted Charlie. "Moping and slouching from one room to the next." Harry was alternating between sinking through the earth in embarrassment and wonderment that his punishment at the hands for Ginny's brothers, protectors of her virtue, had not been more severe.

"You wouldn't do anything to Harry!" scoffed Ginny. "I think sometimes you lot think more of him than you do of me!"

"Oh Ginny, that is not true!" Bill looked stunned. Ginny stuck out her bottom lip. It quivered.

"Ginevra," Percy began pompously. "Really, I think that is taking things rather far. I should say that it's not a competition as to who should receive affection; after all as a parent can love more than one child equally, so too can sibling love be equally as distributed." Ginny turned on Percy with big soulful eyes.

"Oh don't give him that look, Ginny!" George protested. "Of course we don't love him more than you. You're … you're our favourite sister! Who's going to go higher than that in our affections? Oh no, don't you turn those big puppy dog eyes on me!"

Ginny stared balefully at George as he squirmed. Harry thought that if this went on much longer he'd see big fat crocodile tears come leaking out of those big brown eyes. To keep more still and more quiet he would have to stop breathing.

"George, I think we have to face it, our plans may just have to be scrapped," said Charlie.

"Plans? What plans? Do you know about these plans?" Ginny turned on Ron, fixing him with a beady stare reminiscent of Mrs Weasley.

"I don't have any plans," Ron shrugged. "They might have plans. Not me, I have no plans, no plans at all." Harry snorted, immediately regretting it as all eyes then turned to him. He figured he may as well go for broke, having called attention to himself.

"Oh, you have plans alright. I just think they are different plans to the string-Ginny's-boyfriend-up-by-the-ears plans! Oh yeah, you've got plans!" chortled Harry. "But I bet none of your plans involve discussing house elf rights!" The tips of Ron's ears began to turn red and he growled at Harry.

"Nice try with the distraction there Harry," said Bill, "but getting back to the issue at hand –"

"Issue at hand?" said Ginny. "What issue can you possibly have?"

"Absolutely none Gin. And where's the fun in that?" questioned George. "What brother in their right mind is going to try and scare off, tease or otherwise torment your boyfriend when he is actually The Chosen Saviour of all Wizardkind Who Lived?" Harry rolled his eyes at his new nickname.

"You could take the mickey out of Ron. He kissed Hermione!" he blurted and then seeing Ron's face as he did so, he got up and ran, Ron chasing after him, bellowing.

The others were laughing as the two of them raced towards the castle doors; Harry easily ducking Ron's swinging arms. As the two of them reached the steps Hermione stepped out of the front doors and Harry darted behind her.

"That's sneaky, Potter," said Ron, breathing heavily as he rested his hands on his knees. Harry just grinned at him from behind Hermione while she huffed at the two of them. The three of them stood there on the steps for a few minutes as Ron caught his breath before turning to watch Ginny and his brothers as they ambled up from the lake shore. As his siblings grew closer Ron reached an arm around Hermione and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, looking defiantly back at them. Harry made a face and gagging sounds and was rewarded with a shove for his efforts.

Ginny darted forward and ran squealing to Hermione, and they began whispering and giggling, apparently completing some sort of female ritual that Harry was sure he'd never understand. He paid no attention to Ginny's brothers as they reached the steps, boldly sliding his hands around Ginny's waist from behind and resting his chin on her shoulder. As he did so he caught the tail end of the conversation Bill, George, Charlie and Percy were having.

"Really, well mum wouldn't have let us get away with much anyway."

"Yeah, probably planning the wedding within a week I reckon."

"There's potential for ribbing with young Ron though. He can't do a Bat Bogey hex."

"Really if we were to choose someone for Ginevra ourselves, we couldn't do much better after all."

Harry smiled as Ron tugged Hermione's hand and whined that it was time to eat, pulling her in the direction of the Great Hall. Bill caught up to Harry, squeezed his shoulder and nodded.

"Let's go eat, hey?" He slung an arm around George and led the others inside. Harry, not quite willing to relinquish his hold on Ginny just yet stepped awkwardly inside behind her, his arms still around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder and breathing in the scent of her sweet smelling hair.


	4. Chapter 4

**Mrs Weasley's Grief**

"Where. Have. You. _BEEN_?" Mrs Weasley's shrill voice rang through the Entrance Hall. "I sent you to find your sister and bring her _straight_ in to dinner, not take a leisurely walk in the grounds! You've been gone for ages! How was I supposed to know where you were? What if something had happened to you? Do you KNOW how long you've been _GONE_?"

"Now Molly, they are adults and quite capable of looking after themselves," said Mr Weasley, coming up behind her as her children cowered in front of her, Harry doing a particularly good job of hiding behind Ginny.

"Are they, Arthur? Are they? You don't know that! You don't know what's out there, lurking in the dark! And last time – last time I let them out of my sight – last time …"Mrs Weasley trailed off and began to cry.

"Last time Fred didn't come back," she whispered. George let out a quiet whimper and turned away and Harry saw Bill's arm tighten around him. Mrs Weasley was crying in earnest now and wringing her hands. Mr Weasley pulled his wife into his arms swiftly, trying to calm her.

"We're sorry mum," said Charlie softly. "We didn't mean to make you worry."

"You could say we got a little side tracked though," muttered Ron. Hermione elbowed him in the ribs and glared.

"Mother, our humble apologies for making you worry. I am afraid we did not realise the length of time we had taken while locating Ginevra," Percy added.

"Not that Ginny was ever lost," Ron snorted. "Not like she was in any danger, except of making me vomit."

"Ron Weasley, you have no tact whatsoever!" Hermione hissed.

"Mum," said Bill gently. "I'm sorry you were worried. We really will be more careful in the future."

Mrs Weasley turned to look at Bill, noticing George for the first time. Bill's strong arm had trapped his younger brother, tears streaming down his face, looking as if he might flee as soon as Bill released his grip.

"Oh Georgie," she whispered, reaching over and gathering him into her arms. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." She stood there, rocking her son while he cried in her arms and one by one her other children joined her, the Weasley family drawing strength from each other and supporting each other. Harry turned to Hermione who looked at him sadly.

"I wish my parents were here," she whispered, looking mournful. Harry pulled her into a hug, reflecting that perhaps he was getting rather more used to crying females but wishing at the same time he'd gotten the experience another way.

"We'll go and bring them home soon Hermione, as soon as we possibly can," Harry whispered softly to her, so as not to disturb the grieving family. Hermione whispered her thanks into her shirt as she succumbed to tears and Harry stood with her in his arms, rubbing her back softly.

"Oi, Potter! Get your hands off my girl!" Harry started at Ron's voice and Hermione turned swiftly. But Ron was smiling and Harry laughed and playfully squeezed her tighter. The Weasleys all turned around at this exchange, George wiping his eyes and taking a quick look at his mother.

"Ho, ho ickle Ronniekins," George began, "you've spilled it in front of mum now!" Mrs Weasley was looking from Ron to Hermione, who had pulled free of Harry's grasp.

"When did this happen?" Mrs Weasley asked with a rather watery smile.

"Right after Ron opened the Chamber of Secrets and right before we ran into Crabbe who tried to burn us alive," said Harry matter-of-factly.

"You are hiding quite a bit there, Potter, aren't you?" Charlie said, looking at Harry in amazement. "Full of secrets aren't we?"

"Oh," said Harry, shaking his head,"you have no idea."

"You're right Harry," broke in George. "It is going to be fun taking the mickey out of Ron; something to look forward to." Hermione smiled at George as he suddenly burst into watery laughter at the disgruntled look on Ron's face.

"Why can't you pick on Harry?" Ron complained. "I don't know why you can't concentrate on embarrassing him for all eternity!"

The Weasleys stood with their arms draped around each other or linked together as Ron and George entered a good natured debate about the merits of mocking Ron about his new relationship and Harry marveled at their ability to carry each other from bad moments to good and be there when the next bad moment came. As his eyes roamed over the ones he knew as family they came to rest on Ginny who was looking decidedly pale and staring at Ron fixedly before her eyes briefly flickered to Harry's and it was then he saw the deep pain reflected in them; and the confusion.

"Ron, how did you open the Chamber?" she asked so softly Harry could barely hear her. Everybody froze. Harry held his breath, she looked so pained as though every bad memory she ever had was being dredged up. Ron sucked in his breath and glanced at Harry.

"He's heard me speak Parseltongue loads of times, Ginny," Harry volunteered, hoping this would be enough for now, hoping he wouldn't have to explain further. Ginny turned her gaze on him but it was rapidly becoming one of frustration bordering on fury and Harry took a step back.

"Oh yes, you go around telling things to open in Parseltongue all the time!" she exclaimed. "You hate talking in Parseltongue. You never do it unless you have to. You avoid snakes, Harry! So yeah, sure Ron remembers 'open' from five years ago! How does he know it? What happened to him?" Ron looked in horror at Ginny and then to Harry and Hermione. No one else seemed able to move.

"He really did learn it from hearing me do it, but no, not from five years ago," Harry took a tentative step towards her. "I had to open something with Parseltongue recently. Ron was there. Nothing's happened to him Ginny. He's safe. We're all safe now. _He's_ gone, he can't hurt anyone else. No one is going to open the Chamber again." Harry held his breath. Ginny seemed on the verge of hysteria now. Before anyone could react she suddenly took off out of the Entrance Hall and in the direction of the second floor, Harry tore after her and he could hear the Weasleys thundering after them.

Moments later Harry burst, gasping, into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Ginny stood in front of the open entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, shaking. Harry pulled her into an embrace, stroking her hair and whispering that it was going to be all right. The rest of the Weasleys and Hermione arrived, puffing, at the door to the bathroom.

"Close it, Harry," Ginny begged, her voice shrill and hysterical. Harry told the entrance to close, but nothing happened.

"Er, mate," said Ron, "that was English." Harry tried again. Nothing happened.

"I can't speak Parseltongue anymore," he whispered. Harry was stunned, events began turning over in his brain and he saw Hermione looking at him. She was thinking.

"It was part of Voldemort," she began, "he left, well … it in you the first time he tried to kill you and the second time he used the Killing Curse on you he ripped it out again and it took the Parseltongue with it. The Parseltongue was part of it." Mrs Weasley shrieked.

"Harry James Potter! What do you mean he used the Killing Curse on you?" Mrs Weasley looked livid with rage.

"Killing Curse?" whispered Ginny. He hadn't mentioned that earlier, they had avoided talk of exactly _how_ he died, trying to cope with their feelings about it. Harry held onto her as she began shaking, stroking her back.

"I'm okay, I promise," he whispered in her ear.

"Has anyone checked you over? Have you been to see Poppy? Are you all right?" demanded Mrs Weasley as she darted over and began checking him over. Harry began to protest.

"See, no possible way of mocking Harry," George said shaking his head sadly. "You don't mock someone who's survived the Killing Curse twice. You just can't do that. But we can, and we should, celebrate that. With fireworks!"

"Can we do that after dinner?" asked Ron. "Let's go eat. McGonagall can come here later and seal that up some other way Ginny." Ginny nodded, she was still pale and hadn't completely stopped shaking so Harry kept his arm around her as they traipsed out into the hallway and towards the Great Hall, Mrs Weasley continued to fuss over Harry.

"I'm fine, Mrs Weasley," he protested in vain as she continued to poke and prod at him and ask him if this was tender or that was sore. "Really I'm just fine. I don't need to go to the hospital wing. Mrs Weasley … really, Mrs Weasley – MUM! Stop!"She turned to stare at him.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I didn't mean to shout." Mrs Weasley looked tearfully up at him before gathering him in a bone-crushing hug stopping the mini procession. He heard Ginny giggle as he struggled to breathe and was relieved that she was starting to feel better.

"Mum! Come on, let the man go, let's eat!" called Ron. "Harry, do you think you can bond with her after dinner?" Mrs Weasley released her grip and patted Harry softly on the cheek.

"Come on, let's go feed you up," she said. "Have you been eating properly? You are looking awfully thin."


	5. Chapter 5

**5. Rebuilding Hogwarts**

As Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys made their way to the Great Hall, Harry noticed that repair work had already commenced on some areas of the castle. Some of the burnt tapestries had been removed or repaired and the hallways appeared to have been swept in some parts and rubble pushed to the side.

"We've been cleaning up a bit today," Charlie explained, noticing Harry's keen gaze. "Even Filch picked up a mop earlier with something resembling enthusiasm."

"Yeah some of us were drafted," added Ron. "Unlike some I could mention who were off who knows where, doing who knows what all day, the lazy sods." Hermione elbowed him sharply in the side and Harry stifled a laugh.

"Yes well, be that as it may," said Mrs Weasley, giving Ginny a questioning look, "Kingsley sent word that he intends to have Hogwarts open again in September and if we want that we need to get a move on. No one was able to get into some parts of the castle above the Third Floor to see how much damage is up there and the Grand Staircase is a mess."

"Trelawney's crystal balls didn't do it any favours," chimed George. "Bloody good shot she is though. Best use I ever saw for the wretched things." Harry silently agreed with that assessment.

"Neville spent all day in the greenhouses," added Hermione. "Professor Sprout's been busy in the Hufflepuff Common Room so he volunteered to check on the plants. I can't wait until we can get through to the Library. Oh I hope it didn't get too much damage."

They approached the Great Hall and Harry saw that it was almost completely dark outside now; the first stars beginning to twinkle low on the horizon. The quiet hum emanating from the Great Hall made him slow his feet. He wasn't sure if he was ready to see all those people. He didn't know if he had the strength to face them. The Weasleys and Hermione all went ahead of him. Ron pushed the doors open, muttering something about unnatural starvation but Harry found himself rooted to the spot, just outside the Great Hall. Only Ginny noticed he had stopped. She had been walking with her father and she ducked out from under his arm and approached Harry. Mr Weasley waited by the doors to the Great Hall.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Ginny asked.

"I don't think I can go in there," Harry said quietly. He looked at her and shrugged. "All the people… I don't like being stared at and, well I… feel a bit silly really. I don't even really know why I can't go in there." He looked at her hopelessly. Was his Gryffindor bravery failing him after everything he'd been through, so much so that he couldn't face a few people eating dinner? Ginny reached out and took his hand in hers.

"It'll be okay, I'll come in with you," she smiled. "Besides, Bill scared them all off earlier and I think Neville was minutes away from getting the sword out again and threatening to lop off people's heads if they didn't give you space."

"Ready Harry?" asked Mr Weasley. "If we don't get you in there soon Molly will have our heads. You know how she gets when you look a bit peaky." Harry took a deep breath, squeezed Ginny's hand and stepped forward. The doors creaked open and the three of them slipped through. Mr Weasley headed straight for the knot of redheads currently seating themselves at the Gryffindor table where Fleur and Mrs Tonks were already eating. There was a pram next to them. A few people looked up at Harry and waved and Luna turned her head the Lion hat on her head roaring a greeting. Harry briefly wondered where on earth it had come from and why she was wearing it but mentally shrugged and figured he'd probably never know the answer, or understand it if she told him. Harry and Ginny made their way to their family and Harry pulled out a chair for Ginny next to Ron.

"Stop being all noble and chivalrous and making the rest of us look bad," groused Ron. Harry and Hermione simultaneously slapped him on the back of the head.

"Shut up Ron," said Ginny. "Besides, I thought you all agreed not to pick on Harry?"

"Wasn't me who agreed to that," grumbled Ron. "It only starts with pulling chairs out and opening doors. Soon I'll have to watch all the lovey dovey rubbish and the snogging. If George wants to defer to Harry's paltry escaping death feats he's welcome to, me, I'm not putting up with that sort of behaviour. Blokes get all soppy when they fall for girls. It's unnatural." He pulled a face.

"You can't talk Mr Snogged In Every Corner Of The Common Room!" retorted Ginny. Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry behind their heads.

"That was different!" Ron protested. "That was – that was … your fault!"

"Oh don't start that with me," Ginny hissed. "I didn't make you do it!"

"I suppose you are going to tell me snogging Dean in the middle of a public thoroughfare isn't inappropriate public displays of affection?" Ron retorted. Dean, hearing his name, looked up. As the look on Ron's face most closely resembled apoplectic Dean stayed silent, wisely choosing not to get involved.

"Inappropriate! You want inappropriate public displays of affection?" snorted Harry. He affected a soppy tone, "Oh Hermione, let's not worry about poor Harry and his little saving the world quest, let's have a big snog in the middle of a battle … I had to watch that you know!"

"Quidditch Cup, common room!" Ron said without missing a beat. "Even!" Harry considered that for a moment.

"Okay, consider the subject closed." Harry pulled out his own chair and sat down, heaping some chicken on his plate. Mrs Weasley studied the four of them for a moment and shook her head with resignation before turning back to her plate. Harry began to eat with relish, listening with half an ear to the conversations around him.

"- Flitwick levitating a block of stone bigger than he was, thought he was gunna drop it on his own head!"

"I shall seek an application to the Ministry as soon as possible Father, I did after all enjoy my work there. I'm not sure my resignation will be valid anyway mind you, after all-"

"Do you reckon they'll cancel NEWTS? How anyone could sit exams after-"

"No! I swear last night I heard a rumbling sound and flashing lights coming from the Forest. Downright creepy – "

"-goblins are missing a dragon-"

"-waiting for Kingsley to ask me to help capture it."

"Hey Lee! Did you ever go back and get those fireworks we hid in the boathouse from Filch and Umbridge? You reckon they're still there?"

"Your attention please!" Professor McGonagall's magically amplified voice rang out through the Great Hall. "Now that we are all here there are a few notices which I wish to make you aware of before we tuck into pudding. The Minister for Magic has sent word that Hogwarts is to reopen on September first. In the interim I have been appointed to oversee the rebuilding and administration of the new school year as Headmistress. There will be special considerations surrounding NEWTS and opportunities offered for the completion of studies for those students who were unable to attend this past year." Here she paused and her gaze rested on Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"There's a lot to rebuild but if you wish to volunteer to help here at Hogwarts, please see me," the Professor continued. "You are all welcome to stay here over the next few days as we prepare for the memorial service to be held in three days time. The following day, school will be officially dismissed for the year. I would like to remind the remaining students that the Forbidden Forest remains forbidden and don't let me catch you with anything from the list of banned items that can be found hanging outside Mr Filch's office." She turned her steely gaze on George.

"The House Cup needs awarding and as such I have a few last minute points to award. Mr Longbottom, I suspect that you and Misters Potter and Weasley and Ms Granger have no doubt, once again, earned enough points between you to award the Cup to Gryffindor. I don't think we need to go into specifics." The Great Hall erupted into cheers as the four Gryffindors looked sheepishly at each other, reminded of their first year.

"Cheer up Neville!" shouted Ron. "At least Hermione didn't have to knock you out this time!"

"No," said Neville wryly, "being attacked by a flaming hat and nearly knocked out with a massive sword is so much better than that!" Harry looked at Neville thoughtfully.

"I reckon that's not necessarily what earned you points mate. First year it was for standing up _to_ your friends. I reckon this year it was definitely for standing up _for_ your friends. Thanks Neville," he said. Neville inclined his head in a gesture that Harry took to mean 'no problem' and the two of them reached for treacle tart and dug in.

Harry ignored the whisperings of the five Weasley brothers as he absently listened to Hermione talk excitedly with Neville about being able to finish her magical education.

"I don't know how I'll go with a year off and everything," said Hermione. "All the things you learned last year … I'll be behind and have to catch up. It is such a disadvantage."

"Don't worry," Neville reassured her. "You couldn't possibly have missed out on anything this year as I haven't learned much more than how to dodge Unforgivables." Harry and Hermione winced but Neville unconcernedly continued eating his treacle tart. Harry pushed his away. He was only dimly aware of Professor McGonagall stepping down from the head table and heading his way and of Fleur holding little Teddy and gushing over his chubby cheeks. He was, however, fully aware of Ginny's thigh pressed against his, her foot hooked around his ankle and her shoulder and upper arm brushing against his as she ate. She was listening to her mother make plans for returning to Auntie Muriel's to pick up their things before heading to the Burrow and settling back in. Just as Professor McGonagall reached their location Bill, Charlie, Ron and George stood up.

"Come on," George was saying. "We don't even have to leave the castle, there's a secret passage." Mrs Weasley looked up sharply and Professor McGonagall fixed him with a stare.

"I do hope, Mr Weasley, that you are not planning anything nefarious," she said drily. George fixed his face into a picture of innocence and merely shrugged as if to say he was incapable of nefarious deeds or indeed anything less than the most studious and strict intentions. Professor McGonagall's face softened as she looked at her former student. "Just don't damage anything, Mr Weasley. We have quite enough to be fixing as it is."

With a mock salute George turned and headed out of the Great Hall, Bill, Charlie and Ron following him. Percy waited for only a moment before turning to Harry.

"You coming?"

"Actually Mr Weasley, I need to speak to Mr Potter," Professor McGonagall said, "if you can spare me a moment Harry?"

"Er, sure, Professor," Harry replied. Ginny jumped to her feet calling to her brothers to wait for her.

"I'll be back," she grinned wickedly. "But I must know what they are up to!" She hurried off, Mrs Weasley watching her retreating offspring worriedly. Mr Weasley patted her arm comfortingly.

"Now, Mr Potter, Ms Granger," began Professor McGonagall, "there are a few matters to which we must attend. First of all, as you heard me announce there will be a memorial service here at Hogwarts in three days, at which time we will be carving the names of those who gave their lives onto a monument that Hagrid is currently fashioning. Loved ones of those who gave their lives have been invited to carve the names of their dear ones into the monument during the service. We need someone, Mr Potter, to do Remus Lupin this service."

Professor McGonagall paused and looked at Harry sorrowfully. Harry tried to swallow but there was a lump in his throat and he wished suddenly that Ginny had not left. Hermione reached over and took his hand and he grabbed onto her as if he were drowning. Taking a deep breath and blinking back the tears that suddenly sprang to his eyes he nodded before looking down at the table.

"Thank you, Harry," said Professor McGonagall, squeezing his shoulder. "I could not think of anyone better to do this for him. Secondly, Kingsley Shacklebolt has asked me if I could possibly find out if you know anything about Gringotts' missing dragon." She pressed her lips together and Harry could not tell if she was suppressing a laugh or showing extreme displeasure.

"Well," said Harry, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I reckon he could try looking north. Er, Hagrid once told me that dragons like to head north." He looked at Hermione who was as busy avoiding McGonagall's gaze as he was.

"I shall tell him that, thank you. Now one final thing for now, I presume you also heard that Hogwarts will be reopening and those who missed attending this year would have that opportunity this September first," Professor McGonagall paused and turned to look at Dean Thomas pointedly. "I should like to make good my promise to see you become an Auror, Mr Potter. For this you will need NEWTS and though you are a truly wonderful a young man, I should think you might need to study for those. As magnificent as your defensive spells are I think your charm work could do with a little sprucing up." Professor McGonagall looked pointedly at his rumpled and rather stained robes which had not seen a particularly good laundering charm that morning.

"I would like to entreat you to return for the next academic year, Mr Potter," she continued. "Not the least of which reasons is a desire to see the Quidditch Cup in Gryffindor one more time under your Captaincy." She pulled a shiny badge from an inside pocket in her robes.

"Can I tempt you Mr Potter?"

Harry stared at the badge and what it represented, at what he was being offered. Ginny's words echoed in his head. Let the adults make the decisions, he might have turned seventeen and be legally an adult but this was probably his last chance to reclaim a portion of his lost childhood. It would be his last chance to roam Hogwarts as his home; spending evenings in Gryffindor tower and having afternoon tea with Hagrid. His last chance to explore hidden passageways, captain the Quidditch team and eat until he was bursting at the Hallowe'en feast. If he didn't go back to Hogwarts what would he do? Could he waltz into an Auror position without sitting his NEWTS? Did he want to even if he could?

Harry looked up at Hermione who was watching him, her eyes shining. She looked excited and he knew what she was going to do. Hermione would be here with him, perhaps they could convince Ron and this; this is where Ginny would be. He looked at the shiny Gryffindor Captain badge and reached out a finger to touch it reverently.

"I haven't got a broom," he said and then felt rather absurd for saying it.

"Oh for heaven's sake Harry!" burst out Hermione, clearly unable to hold it in any longer. "We can get you another broom!" Harry, jolted out of his contemplation, turned to Hermione and smiled.

"Yes, I'll get a broom. I'll be here Professor. I wouldn't miss it for the world," he said. Hermione squealed and threw her arms around his neck babbling something about how great it would be and that they had to go to Diagon Alley and get their books and they should go together and it would be just like old times, only safe.

"I'll send your letter on to the Burrow then," Professor McGonagall said and handed him the badge. "And make sure you get yourself a new uniform, Potter." Harry looked down at his rather rumpled robes and grimaced. McGonagall swept away, possibly to persuade more students to return, or perhaps tell Kingsley where he might begin looking for his missing dragon.


	6. Chapter 6

**George's Grief**

As he waited for Ginny to return with her brothers Harry found his eyes constantly wandering to Teddy. Fleur was making faces at the baby who was staring at her solemnly. He watched as Neville moved over to sit next to Fleur and talk to the infant. Little Teddy began shifting his gaze between the two of them.

"Why don't you go over and be with Teddy?" asked Hermione softly. Harry shook his head.

"I can't."

"Why not?" Hermione asked. "Just go and be with him, he needs you."

"I know he needs me," Harry looked at her sadly. "I don't know if I can do it, Hermione. I don't know if I can be strong for him. If I go over there, what if I break down again? What if every time he sees me I'm a blubbering mess?"

"Harry, you're hardly prone to being a blubbering mess."

"But … it hurts, Hermione," Harry said softly. "I don't know if I can keep doing … oh I'm so weak, why can't I just go over there? I can't make myself go over there. What's wrong with me?" Harry began to pull away from her, wrapping his arms around himself and looking at Teddy who was still watching Neville intently.

"Come on, I'll come with you, "Hermione offered, extending her hand. Harry shrank away from her. He was saved from further efforts to get him to move closer to Teddy by the re-entrance of the Weasley children, each carrying a rather large, orange box with WWW written across the sides in large print. Hermione was immediately distracted.

"What have you got there?" she demanded, rather suspiciously in Harry's opinion. "What are you about to do?"

"Calm down, Hermione," protested Ron. "McGonagall just said don't damage anything and this is not going to damage anything. Rather perk everyone up I'd say, wouldn't you George?"

"Right you are little brother!" replied George. "Beneficial is what I would call the contents of these boxes." Harry looked away, back to Teddy. Fleur was passed him to Neville who held the baby rather uncomfortably but he smiled as he looked down at the infant and said something to Fleur that made her laugh and coo at the baby.

"Neville's got himself a girl magnet there," said Charlie slyly.

"There's definitely something attractive about a baby," replied Bill, whose eyes were fixed on Fleur. His thoughts were clearly not fixed on the baby if the look in his eyes was anything to go by.

"Excuse me, but do you think I could put this box down now?" demanded Ginny. "If you great lumps can get out of the way, I can put it on the table." Murmuring apologies, her brothers made way for her to put the box she was carrying on the table. As she relinquished her load she spotted Harry, arms still wrapped around himself, staring at little Teddy Lupin, tears threatening to break from his eyes and spill down his cheeks. She sat down next to him and placed her hand on his arm.

"Harry, are you all right?" Harry didn't look at her, he watched Neville tickle the baby's tummy. Teddy didn't respond. He didn't laugh, simply stared up at Neville with his big eyes and reached his tiny fingers out to bat Neville on the nose.

"He's sad," Harry whispered softly. "He knows his mum and dad are gone and he can't work out where they went and why they haven't come back. He misses her. He's going to miss her for the rest of his life."

"At least he won't remember her," said George, putting his box down next to Ginny's. "No idea what he's missing really."

"Oh, he'll know what he's missing; every day." Harry turned to George. "When all the other kids have mums and dads to pick them up from school, he'll know what he's missing. Every mother's day, every father's day," Harry's voice was getting louder, "he'll know what he's missing. And it'll hurt, all the time. And some days it won't matter that he knows they did it for him, so that he would be safe, because some days all you want is for them to be here with you because you miss them." He stopped, breathing hard.

"Well at least he's got no memories to torment him, every time he turns a corner, expecting them to turn up," George retorted. "Can't really miss it if you never had it; can't miss hearing their voice, seeing them laugh. Can't miss him giving you a hug if you never remembered when he was here!" The entire occupants of the Great Hall were looking at them now. Harry stood up, furious, tipping his chair over.

"Of course you can miss something you never had! When everyone around you has got it and you know you had it once," yelled Harry, clenching his fists. He wasn't talking about Teddy anymore, this was all about Harry and the pain he was feeling and unable to hold in anymore. Mr Weasley stood up and put out a restraining hand, his remaining sons appeared frozen, holding the big boxes, their heads whipping from George to Harry like they were watching a Muggle tennis match. Ginny and Mrs Weasley were staring at them in horror and Hermione, tears glistening in her eyes stood shocked, her hand over her mouth.

"You're not haunted by memories, hearing things that remind you of him, not if you never had him in the first place," George argued. "You're not paralysed with fear in the middle of the night because you don't know how to go on without them. Not if you never had them there, by your side for all your life. Yeah at least he won't know what he's missing out on."

"Well you just try it, George!" Harry hissed. "You just try it! Take the one person who knows you better than anyone else, who's been there all your life! The one person who's been with you since before you were BORN! Take them away and then try and tell me I don't know what I'm missing!" There was a collective gasp. Harry knew a split second too late what he'd said. He knew what he'd said only after the cruel words had fled his mouth in pain and in anger and grief. He would have done anything to take them back, to make them unsaid. He saw the pain etched on George's features and wished with all his heart he could take it back. Distantly he heard Teddy begin to cry. Fleur's voice was the only one that broke the silence, shushing the baby and trying to comfort him.

"You did take him away," whispered George. His voice rose as he continued, "He's gone now and he's never coming back. I know exactly how it feels to miss someone so badly to know you're never going to see them ever again, talk to them, feel their touch. I know what it feels like and I would rather never have known what it was like because this hurts too much!"

"You don't know that," Harry said softly, with steel in his voice. "You don't mean that. It hurts just as bad when you never knew what it was like for them to hold you when you cried." His face was flushed and angry, the two of them stood there staring each other in the face, holding their anger and grief over each other's head like a bargaining tool.

"Oh I do mean that," said George menacingly. "You have no idea. No idea how I feel!"

"Maybe not exactly," spat Harry, "but don't you dare tell me I don't know how it feels to lose someone, that I don't know what I am missing just because I never knew them. They're all gone! All of them! There is no one left, no one to tell me about them, share stories with me and fill in the gaps. No one left who knew them, no one left who can share them with me because there's no one left who shared those experiences with them. No one left who was there was I was born, who was there on my first birthday. It's missing, it's all missing and who's going to fill it in now?" his anger was deflating. He slumped and looked down at the ground. He missed the look on George's face; he missed the fact that George had drawn his wand; he missed the curse that flew his way. He heard only George hissing before the room spun as he fell to the floor.

"You think you can fill his place? You shouldn't even have survived! Why couldn't I still have Fred instead of you!" Harry's vision blurred and his pulse beat faster. He heard screams and swearing and then sobbing as he lay there trying to clear his head. Hermione's head swam into view, her mouth moving but he could not work out what she was saying and then Mr Weasley was there a concerned look on his face, but Harry couldn't look at him. He'd hurt George, how could he look any of the Weasleys in the eye? Harry turned his head, closing his eyes and trying to move his body to curl into a ball.

He felt someone touch his shoulder and he shrank away from them. How could anyone bear to touch him after what he'd just said? Why was anyone with him anyway, they should just leave him alone and help George, poor George who had lost so much so recently. Let's face it, he, Harry, should be dead and nobody else should have died. Voldemort was only after him. He'd lived with his losses for years surely he could deal with it by now, keep it in check and not turn on George for whom the wound was still so raw, so fresh? The world was still spinning and blackness began to cloud the edges of his vision as he finally managed to curl up on his side and he didn't fight the blackness as it overtook him. He sank gratefully into the oblivion it provided.

******************

"How could you do that to him?" the voice shrieked. "He's your friend! How could you, after everything he's been through! There was no need to do that. No need." The voice trailed off sobbing and Harry was glad it had because his head was pounding as though a freight train had run through his head instead of the level crossing at Little Whinging. Harry searched his brain for an explanation of why he was lying on a cold floor with a woman's shrill voice screaming through his head and why he felt the need to agree with the voice. The voice was right, he didn't need to do that he'd been completely wrong. He wasn't sure what about exactly but he knew instinctively he'd said something wrong.

Thinking hurt and he groaned, trying to move his head and failing miserably. He brought his hands up to cradle his head but his hands were caught by someone else's.

"Shhhh, Harry, lay still. Madam Pomfrey's coming with something for your head," said a soft voice from above him. "No, don't try to talk, its okay."

Hermione, thought Harry, that's Hermione. He groaned again and cracked his eyes open to see Hermione bending over him and Ron hovering over her shoulder looking at him with concern.

"You all right mate?" asked Ron. "Anything hurt apart from your head? You took a nasty fall after you hit the table with your head. Bleeding's stopped, but I'll not be surprised if you have a whopper of a headache right now." Harry blinked at him.

"What – what happened?" he asked. Ron shifted uncomfortably and in the silence Harry could hear the low rumble of voices, at least one baby crying and two people sobbing loudly from somewhere nearby while several people were making various shushing sounds.

"You got knocked out when you got hit by a spell and whacked your head on the table when you fell," said Hermione briskly. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by a Bludger," said Harry wincing at the sound of his own voice. "Who on earth wants to throw spells at me now?"

"Oh look, here's Madam Pomfrey," said Ron, moving aside to allow the matron through. Harry got the distinct impression that he was avoiding the question.

"Mr Potter, I was under the impression that you did not need to visit my Hospital Wing," she started briskly, "but here we are, let me look at you."

"I am still under the impression that I do not need to visit your Hospital Wing," grumbled Harry. He did allow her to check his head thoroughly and mend the wound there. After making him drink a foul tasting pain potion she proclaimed that he would be best off spending the night in the Hospital Wing.

"But-"

"Don't worry Mr Potter," Madam Pomfrey interrupted, forestalling his protest. "You don't have to go there given that it is too full in any case. I will leave you in the capable hands of Mr Weasley and Ms Granger." The hospital matron bustled away. As the pain potion began to take effect the fog in his head cleared and Harry remembered exactly what had happened. He closed his eyes and shrank away from Hermione's concerned embrace.

"I can't believe I said that to George," he whispered to no one in particular, drawing his knees up to his chest. He shrugged off the hand somebody laid on his shoulder and put his head down and began to weep softly, mortified and horrified at his own actions. No wonder he agreed with the shrieking voice, how could he do that to George?

"No-ooo," he moaned as someone firmly gripped his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. He struggled briefly but the other person was too strong for him and as he broke down he dimly realised that he was gripped in one of Mrs Weasley's bone crushing hugs. As she rocked him and stroked his hair, whispering soft words into his ear Harry cried tears he did not know he had left and let a mother's love truly envelope him for the first time in living memory.


	7. Chapter 7

**Harry's Despair**

The following day Harry wished he had spent the night in the Hospital Wing. He knew how to get past Madam Pomfrey after a night in _her_ clutches; not so Molly Weasley's. Harry wasn't sure exactly how he got to his bed the night before. He suspected he'd fallen asleep while he was crying (again!) in her arms and presumed someone either carried or levitated him up to his four poster in Gryffindor Tower. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, if he didn't speak of it perhaps the embarrassment would go away. When Harry tried to get out of bed he was briskly hustled back into it by Mrs Weasley. Declaring him completely overwrought, she insisted he spend the day in bed. Ron, breakfast and a chess board had appeared only moments later.

It had taken Ron a considerable amount of time and persuasion to get Harry to respond to him. Ron, expecting Harry to avoid conversation, had carried on one himself, dishing out the breakfast and shoving one plate under Harry's nose until he took it before tucking into his own bacon.

"George and Ginny have to stay in bed too," said Ron cheerfully as he set up the chess board. "Mum made Charlie stay with George and Hermione stay with Ginny. It's so they don't escape, I reckon. Neither of them are sick, although it was a pretty nasty Bat Bogey Ginny sent George's way, let me tell you.

"She went mental when George hit you with that blasting hex. I don't think it was a standard blasting hex either. Wouldn't it be funny if George learned that from you in the first place, you know, in the D.A? That all seems so long ago now doesn't it?" Ron stared out of the window idly as Harry pushed his plate away, having finished only half of the food on it. He turned away from Ron and pulled the bedcovers up over his shoulders. Ron roused himself at the noise this made.

"Ginny was completely hysterical, mate," Ron said quietly. "It took the combined efforts of Bill and Charlie to keep her away from you and George so that Madam Pomfrey could look you over. They had to give her a calming draught." Harry gave Ron no response but Ron kept talking until noon.

After exhausting the topic of the previous nights events Ron turned to a running commentary of the memorial preparations he saw from the window, a rundown of the sports pages from the Daily Prophet and a recount of the berating he'd received from Moaning Myrtle for leaving a great gaping hole in her bathroom. Harry pretended to ignore Ron, curled up in the bed; head turned away from his best mate while Ron swung on the chair, charmed his bed hangings to shout 'Slytherins live in the dark' and tried to play himself at chess. It was only then that Ron's patience showed any sign of wearing thin.

"You know, it's a shame Mum confined Ginny to bed," said Ron, "because she's good at getting you talking when you are sulking. You keep this up much longer and I'll die of boredom after surviving the bloody war!"

"Not so sure even she'd want to talk to me after what I said to George last night," Harry said in a low voice, staring at the window he could just see from his bed. There was no way any of what he had said to George was in any way excusable.

"Are you completely mental?" exclaimed Ron. "Why do you think she hexed George? Besides I think you and George are about even with what you both said to each other. He's the one in the doghouse though because he's the one who raised his wand. Mum and Dad are furious."

"You don't have to stay here Ron, I won't get out of bed; you can go and do whatever it is you'd rather be doing than hanging out with me," Harry said as he curled further around himself and shook his head.

"Mate, there's no way George really meant it," Ron said to the back of Harry's head. "'Sides, George is completely torn up about last night. Was trying to get out of bed and come see you and that's when Mum lost it at him. She caught George three times before breakfast. Said you were too fragile to let George loose on you again and that George was obviously in need of a Good Lie Down. That's when she and Dad went in and had a little chat with him about hexing the innocent and unarmed; then they sent Charlie in.

"Hermione was telling me about this Muggle book she read after Si- well after fifth year. She reckons you and George were just dishing out a healthy dose of anger and bargaining. I forget what she said you'd probably do next. She's got a bloody list! Part of grief she reckons. See, Hermione says the books say you are perfectly normal!"

Harry didn't respond. He didn't want to remember Sirius; he didn't want to remember what he'd said to George. He'd been right, why should Harry survive when others didn't live? If Harry had given himself up sooner maybe none of them would have died. If he'd found the Horcruxes sooner, if he'd not spent so long wondering about the Hallows. He hadn't been quick enough and now families were going to pay with the lives of their loved ones. They'd been fighting for their freedom, so their children could grow up in a better world and he could have ended it sooner, so no one else had to die. He'd been ready to die, he'd been willing to die he should have died instead of Fred. Fred wasn't ready to die, he wasn't willing to die. Burying his face in the pillow Harry let the tears fall again.

***************

The low rumble of voices filled the room but Harry was unable to discern any individual voices at first. He must have cried himself to sleep (again!) and now some git was thoughtlessly invading his dorm room and disturbing him. As the fog of sleep lifted he was able to distinguish the conversation.

"-convinced Mum and Dad to take guest rooms and Dad took Mum to have a lie down before dinner. So they are out of the way."

"Is Mum satisfied that we can take care of those three, she isn't going to check up on us is she?"

"It was touch and go for a while, I think she believed Ron when he said Harry wasn't about to leave his bed."

"I think we all believe that one!"

"Shhhhh, you'll wake him up!"

"I don't think she trusts Ginny to stay in bed at all. She has absolute faith in Hermione though. I think she's counting on George to be in too much fear to cause any more trouble."

"We'll be able to convince them to come down though won't we?"

"Ginny, absolutely, the other two might prove a bit stubborn."

"Well, let's leave this one to Ron, we'll work on George."

Bill and Charlie, thought Harry dully. Ron must have gotten bored enough to finally leave. He shifted restlessly and heard the other two go completely silent. Only minutes passed before Ron returned. Harry heard Bill and Charlie leave the room and Ron sit heavily in a chair next to his bed.

"We're having a little meeting shortly," he began without preamble. "It'd be good if you could join us. It's hard to have a family meeting without all the family there. We'll be downstairs in the common room. It's no good pretending you're asleep. I know when you're sleeping and I know when you're awake. Don't take too long, I don't know how long I can keep Ginny from storming up here and yelling."

'Who does he think he is,' thought Harry irritably as Ron left, 'Santa Claus?' Harry rolled over and stretched, thinking over what Ron had said. They were having a family meeting, obviously without their parents, so that made it a sibling meeting really and his presence was expected. It made his heart feel light to feel that acceptance but he was unaccountably wary and felt what could only be described as a mixture of fear and apprehension.

Could he go out there and simply join in, with everything that had gone on last night? Just because Mr and Mrs Weasley were apparently of the opinion that George had been terribly in the wrong was this meeting just a chance for the others to set Harry straight on his unacceptable treatment of George?

Well, he had to go to the loo anyway so he'd do that first and then see how he felt about venturing further afield. When he returned Harry noticed a plate of sandwiches and a goblet of pumpkin juice that had been left beside his bed, and checking his watch, noticed that it was mid afternoon and he had missed lunch. Suddenly he was hungry and wolfed down the sandwiches in very few bites, washing them down with the juice.

After that he got dressed. He sat on the edge of his bed getting out his wand and twirling it. It was awfully quiet. And it was rather boring and lonely to be sitting up here alone. But he was trying to be alone, wasn't he? Absolutely. He needed to be alone. No need to complicate and confuse the lives of other people with his messed up life.

He'd just sit here then.

And be alone.

But first he'd just go down and listen to the others. Sit on the stairs just to hear their voices and know he _wasn't_ alone in the world. Just listening would be enough.

Harry got up and crept silently down the stairs, his need for company gnawing at him insatiably. Silently he padded down the stairs until he could hear the voices in the common room.

"Ginny, don't go up there. I am telling you he'll come down when he's ready. Let him come down on his own terms, not because you've dragged him somewhere he's not ready to face!" Hermione's voice drifted up the staircase.

"Well, he wouldn't have any problems facing anything if certain individuals could keep their mouths and their wands to themselves!" was Ginny's reply.

"You know I'm sorry about that-" George was cut off by Ginny's scathing retort,

"It's not me you need to apologise to!"

"Well it isn't easy to go and talk to a bloke nobody will let me near!"

"Well you show me you can be trusted to behave like a civilised human being and I might let you!"

"Let him? Ginny you're not exactly in charge around here!" Ron sounded rather bored and Harry got the distinct impression that Ginny and George had been having this argument for some time.

"Oh, and I suppose you are in charge, are you Ron?"

"Maybe I am, yeah!"

"If you three could put your egos and wands away and we could get back to the matter at hand ... I don't want to explain to McGonagall how we managed to destroy the Gryffindor common room in one afternoon or explain to Mum how you two contributed when I was supposed to ensure you stayed in bed!" Bill sounded incredibly exasperated.

"There ees the leetle matter of what ees in these boxes you 'ave brought 'ere and what you want us to do wiz zem," Fleur sounded impatient and Harry felt like he could _hear_ Hermione mirroring her impatience although she had not said anything.

"Fireworks," said Percy. The word rolled off his tongue most unnaturally in Harry's opinion.

"We were up to the matter of repairing Professor Dumbledore's tomb before the memorial service though. Ron, Hermione, can you just tell me why I have to keep stalling on resealing it?"

"See the thing is, Bill … well … Oh, Harry should really be here for this," Hermione sounded pained but Harry was unable to propel himself forward and down the stairs into the common room to relieve her suffering.

"Look, he's not here right now, so the fact is he needs to put Dumbledore's wand back in it before it's sealed," Ron broke in impatiently. Harry started; he had almost forgotten the wand that was secreted in the pouch that had hung from his neck for so many months.

"But hang on," Charlie spoke slowly. "I thought that was Harry's wand now, it's the Elder Wand isn't it? I thought he was its master?"

"Yeah he is, but he doesn't want it. He wants his own wand, he fixed it and he's putting the Elder Wand back. So he needs the tomb unsealed until he does that," Ron answered.

"I wonder what has happened to the other two of the Brother's things, the Invisibility Cloak and the Resurrection Stone," Percy mused. "If the Elder Wand is real then maybe they are too. Some people think so you know, even if it is supposed to be just a legend." Ron snorted inelegantly.

"For a prefect and Head Boy, Perce you weren't very observant!" Ron laughed. "Harry's had the Invisibility Cloak since First Year!"

"Well to be fair Ron, the cloak does keep one hidden I don't know how Percy is supposed to have seen any of us in it," Hermione stated reasonably. Harry could see in his mind's eye the others all staring at Ron and Hermione in shock.

"Harry's got an Invisibility Cloak?" questioned Bill.

"And you've been using it to break rules, Ronald?" asked Percy sternly.

"_That's _how you got Norberta though the castle without anyone seeing her!" exclaimed Charlie.

"Yeah, but it only works if you don't forget to put in on," muttered Hermione. "You get caught by Filch if you leave it behind after you offload a dragon."

"I always wondered exactly what you lot were doing out of bed, losing Gryffindor so many points," Percy said sharply. "No one took Malfoy's babbling about a dragon seriously at all. I think he was rather put out about that actually."

"Well," said Hermione, sounding embarrassed, "at least we won them back and it really did work out-"

"Charlie, am I to understand that you encouraged these children to hide and transport an illegal dragon?" Percy interrupted.

"Could we not refer to us as children?" protested Ron. "I shave you know!"

"Well how old were you then, Ronald? At eleven one is still a child," Percy said officiously.

"I was twelve by then actually, so was Hermione, hey I wasn't there anyway it was those two. Harry was still eleven though. Dunno if he shaves though …" Ron trailed off.

"You've lived with him for how long now?" Hermione exclaimed incredulously, "How can you not know if he shaves?"

"Well, we don't visit each other in the bathroom, Hermione, we're not girls!"

"I 'ope he shaves," said Fleur thoughtfully. "Ozzerwise our birthday present was useless."

"Oh, don't worry, Fleur," interrupted Ginny, "he shaves."

"How do you know?" Ron asked sharply.

"So anyway," Bill said sounding half amused and half exasperated, "how did Harry get an Invisibility Cloak?"

"It's a family heirloom; Dumbledore passed it on, Christmas of first year," Ron reminisced. "Between that and the map you two gave him I reckon we've seen every inch of this castle."

"Map? What map?"Percy sounded indignant at the thought that Harry and Ron had been getting away with things right under his nose with more than one artefact of which he had no intelligence.

"Getting back to the point," interrupted Charlie. "That doesn't prove the Resurrection Stone ever existed."

"Well no, it doesn't," said Hermione. "So if we could move on …"

"Have you seen the Resurrection Stone, Hermione?" asked Bill shrewdly. Harry could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed.

"Yes," Hermione whispered eventually. She continued in a stronger voice. "Anyone who was at Hogwarts last year would have seen it."

"Harry got hold of it, didn't he, Hermione?" Ginny's tremulous voice floated up the stairwell and Hermione sighed.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore left it to Harry inside the snitch he left him in his will."

"Okay, out with it Hermione, exactly how much of this story are we missing?" Charlie asked and Harry listened to Ron and Hermione fill the others in on the Horcruxes they were searching for, the quest for the Three Brothers' artefacts and ultimately how and why Harry had ended it.

"So you're saying that Harry was one of these _hor_ thingies and he had to stand there and let You-Know-Who kill him to get rid of it." George's voice was hollow. "And he walked out there knowing that was the only way to end it? He knew and he let the tosser do it?"

Harry figured Ron or Hermione had nodded because the only sound he heard was Ginny as a sob ripped from her throat. He wanted to run to her but felt drained of all energy and it seemed to take forever to go down each remaining step. He had reached the bottom step, not quite in sight of the common room when Ron cleared his throat and his voice cut through the stillness.

"So these fireworks then, how are we going to set them out? If we put them in place tomorrow we don't have to worry about them on the day of the memorial and we can set them off afterwards."

"We could set them on the Quidditch stands," said George quietly. "The higher they are the higher they'll go. They have to be set with care though; it's actually a bit dangerous."

"You could ask Hagrid to help, he likes dangerous things," said Harry as he stood in the doorway. Eight heads whipped around and then Ginny ran over to him, gripping him painfully in a bone crushing hug.

"Are you all right? Is your head okay? Does anywhere else hurt?" Her eyes searched his, probably for any sign of a falsehood.

"I think my lungs are about to be punctured by an overzealous hug," he wheezed. Ginny blushed and apologised, letting him go and straightening out his robes. Then she grabbed his hand and pulled him over to sit with the others. As they neared the fireplace Harry sank into his favourite chair, pulling his hand from her grip and his knees up to his chest, he stared into the fire. Ginny paused before sitting on the arm of his chair. Harry shrank away from that side of the chair, curling into himself even further. Possibly the others noticed as no one spoke for several minutes.

"Well, I think that asking Hagrid is a splendid idea," Hermione eventually said briskly. "Perhaps Grawp can help, you know for the really high ones."

"I think levitating them would be safer, Hermione!" protested Ron. "Grawp's not exactly the picture of grace is he?"

"Ees your muzzer going to approve of these fireworks?"

"Probably not!" said Charlie cheerfully. "Oh she'll be fine with the fireworks themselves but if we all vanish to set them up she'll think we're up to no good and if she knows what we are doing she'll think we are going to hurt ourselves. Someone's going to have to distract her."

"I think perhaps I had better keep Mother company tomorrow," said Percy officiously. "I will at least try and convince her that none of you are up to no good, although I am not sure she will believe me."

"She's never going to believe you if you try and say that about us - about me," George faltered. The room fell silent again all of them keenly aware of who was missing, of their loss. Harry blinked desperately to stop the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. For once he succeeded and he continued to stare resolutely into the fireplace. After a few moments Bill spoke.

"George, I reckon you have something to say." Harry heard someone shift uncomfortably and clear their throat. He remained staring into the fire, uncomfortably aware that he owed George an apology.

"George, I'm sorry about what I said last night," Harry managed to say quietly, still looking into the fire. "I was out of line and I shouldn't have said that to you." Harry thought he heard George swear under his breath. There was a rustle of robes and suddenly George was standing in front of Harry who flinched and backed himself further into the chair. George squatted on his haunches, making his face level with Harry's.

"I think I owe you an apology Harry," he stated simply. "I belittled your loss, blamed you for Fred's death, wished _you_ were dead and drew my wand on you. That's pretty poor form and it really has no excuse."

"But it's all true," Harry whispered in a pained voice as he raised his eyes to finally look at the assembled Weasleys and Hermione. "Why am I still here when other people are dead? I _shouldn't _be here, I _should _be dead. Other people have sacrificed family. You have all sacrificed family. I don't have any family so it should have been me; my family isn't going to miss me are they? They're gone." Harry got up abruptly, making George stumble backwards, and headed towards the portrait hole. He got halfway there before he felt a strong hand on his arm, spinning him around.

"Don't you ever think that you don't have any family to miss you," Bill said. "We would all lay down our lives for you –"

"Well of course you would, Dumbledore convinced everyone they had to. Protect me; coddle me until I get to die at the hands of some madman who accidentally turned me into something that tethered him to this life and then I can take him out on the way down!" Harry shouted, jerking his arm away from Bill.

"No," said Bill fiercely. "We would all lay down our life for you, in a heartbeat, because you're family, because we love you and we don't want to lose you."

"Fred's life wasn't worth more than yours," said George as he walked over. Harry took a step back. "If anyone had made me choose between you and Fred I'd have chosen myself before either of you. He knew what he was getting into. We knew that fighting for our freedom could mean death but we had to do it, to make this world safe. It's not your fault. Fred and I knew what we were doing and we knew why." George stopped in front of Harry who had backed into a wall and crossed his arms over his chest.

Harry felt like a cornered animal. George let out a breath and ran his hands through his hair before swearing softly. He turned to Bill and while the attention was off him Harry took the opportunity to flee.

He escaped out of the portrait hole, ran down the stairs and darted behind a tapestry hiding a secret passage on the sixth floor. He'd been petrified that George was going to draw a wand on him again, and it was an unnatural and unnerving feeling. Harry stopped and leant against the wall, breathing hard. He had heard George's voice and he knew that George wasn't going to hurt him but that didn't stop his body betraying him and he had been unable to control his reactions. Was this how it was going to be from now on? Would he be always deathly afraid of everyone?

Harry sank to floor, his head in his hands. If they loved him, as Bill had said, why was he so terrified?


	8. Chapter 8

**Finding Family**

It was quite some time before Harry raised his head and decided he had better get moving. He was surprised that no one had run after him but he wasn't about to bemoan his fortune. He idly wandered along the secret passage which he knew would take him to a door near the greenhouses, as long as it hadn't been blocked or otherwise blown apart during the battle. He needed to return the Elder Wand to Dumbledore's tomb. He wondered if he could do that without being seen but soon cursed his own idiocy, his Invisibility Cloak was in his pouch along with practically everything else he currently owned, which wasn't much; his razor (which he most definitely used), three wands, a shard of a mirror, the Marauder's map, a broken Snitch, a letter from his mother, a baby photo, his Gringotts key and his cloak. As he reached the door at the other end of the passage Harry put the cloak on and slipped outside.

As he passed the greenhouses Harry noticed that Neville had roped a number of Gryffindors in to helping him continue to fix them up. Seamus and Dean were attempting to repair a number of terracotta pots while Lavender, who was still covered in bandages, was watching Parvati levitate overturned tables. Dennis Creevey was sitting in the corner of one greenhouse idly flicking ear muffs back onto a row of hooks in the wall. He looked drawn and pale with circles under his eyes and Harry's heart clenched as it was filled with the sorrow of Colin's loss. Dennis must have come back for the memorial; he would have been evacuated as a fourth year. Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell and Oliver Wood were helping Neville repair the panes of glass in the roof. Assorted sixth years were repotting plants in a section of the greenhouse that had already been repaired.

Well, that explained the empty Common Room.

Harry wandered out onto the grounds and dodging various students, families and teachers made his way to the tomb by the lake. The immediate area was deserted, the work to rebuild being carried on in other parts of the castle grounds. As he walked Harry drew the Elder Wand from the pouch around his neck stopping short a scant metre or two from the white tomb. Harry felt a surge of anger as he looked at the devastation that Voldemort had wrought on the final resting place of his mentor. He approached the tomb with trepidation, knowing what he would see inside. It didn't make it any easier to approach Dumbledore's body, reach out and place the wand back on the chest of the body.

"Goodbye, sir," Harry whispered into the stillness. "Thank you for believing in me and trusting in me. I hope I never let you down."

And Harry felt, rather than heard, a voice whisper on the wind. _'You could never let me down.' _Harry retreated from the tomb, tears glistening in his eyes and cast the strongest spells and charms he could think of to repair and reseal the tomb.

****************

As Harry sat hidden in the shadows of a large bush at sunset, gazing across the lake and skipping stones across the top of the water he felt more at peace than he had done for hours. He twirled the hawthorn wand in his hand while he contemplated the events of the last few hours. He relished the opportunity to sit and think without myriad things to claim his attention. A voice suddenly broke his quiet contemplation.

"The whole castle's looking for you, Potter," Draco Malfoy spoke without malice. "Weasley and Granger are going mental and his mother's practically lost it." Harry looked down at the wand in his hand and mutely held it out to Malfoy who took it hesitantly.

"The Weaselette's nearly hysterical," Malfoy continued, "keeps ranting and raving about losing you. Your whole family's gone nuts, Potter."

"I don't have any family, Malfoy," Harry rasped, his voice croaky from disuse. "Better go back to your mother before she flips as well."

"You don't get it, do you Potter?" Malfoy shook his head. "That family doesn't care that you don't share their genes. You are one of them as surely as if you were born in that hovel." Harry growled.

"Weasel's dad has gone and organized search parties to scour the castle and told them he'll not lose another one of his boys," Malfoy continued." There's frantic redheads everywhere you turn. I don't reckon my own mother has ever shown as much concern for the fruit of her loins as that woman is showing for you. Anyone would think she birthed you herself. If you think you've got no family you are more touched in the head than Goyle." Malfoy shook his head and turned to walk away.

"You're wrong, you know."

"Come off it Potter, you must have heard them when they thought you were dead!"

"No, not about the Weasleys," Harry paused. "About your mother."

"What would you know about my mother, Potter?" Malfoy spat.

"Your mother betrayed Voldemort for you. He sent her to check that I was dead," Harry stood and faced Malfoy. "And she told him I was because when she asked, I told her you were alive. She knew that the only way to get into the castle, to get to _you_, was to convince Voldemort I was dead so that he'd lead them back triumphantly and tell them to surrender instead of just destroying the castle and everyone in it, including you.

"Tom Riddle never knew his mother. He never knew his mother loved him so he didn't understand the depth of a mother's love," Harry had a sudden thought. "I reckon that's why he and your Auntie Bellatrix got along so well. She didn't give much thought to a mother's love either or she never would have taken on Mrs Weasley after trying to throw a killing curse at her daughter.

"My mother's love for me saved me nearly seventeen years ago. Your mother's love for you helped save you and everyone else two days ago. Don't ever think she wouldn't lay down her life for you, because she would, in a heartbeat." And with sudden clarity Harry heard Bill telling him exactly the same thing.

Harry noticed the stars that were beginning to twinkle on the dusky horizon and remembered Mrs Weasley's fear at their late arrival the night before. Glancing at his watch he noted the time meant that dinner was about to get underway in the Great Hall when he noticed some scratches along one side of the face. He mentally shrugged, oh well at least they matched the dents on the back.

"_-traditional to give a wizard a watch when he comes of age…it was my brother Fabian's…it's a bit dented on the back…"_

Harry suddenly took off in the direction of the castle, sprinting towards the great oak door. As he skidded to a stop at the top of the marble steps, breathing hard, Harry heard a commotion coming from inside and if he wasn't mistaken it was being caused by some Weasleys. He pushed the door open and came face to face with a raised wand.

Because he was breathing hard from running Harry managed to hide the fact that his heart began to thump heavily in his chest and his breathing had quickened. He stood petrified, staring down the business end of a wand, unable to move.

'_What is happening to me?'_ he thought wildly, holding his breath, pulse racing and his eyes fixed on the wand. Dimly, as if from far away he heard voices calling his name. The wand moved and Harry breathed. Slowly the rest of the Entrance Hall came into focus. Hermione was there, peering at him concernedly. Had she seen him freeze? No, he'd panicked, had she seen that?

"You people have _got_ to stop pointing wands at me," he puffed, pushing down the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Stop being a git then! Where on earth have you been?" retorted Ron. Harry flinched and shrank back as Ron gave off a very uncanny impression of his mother, only taller. In fact now that Harry thought about it Ron seemed about twice as big as he usually did. "We've been looking for you for hours! You can't just take off like that! How would we know if something had happened to you? Oh we probably wouldn't, would we? Not until someone brings your body back!" Bill stepped forward, putting his hand on Ron's shoulder which seemed to shrink him back to normal size.

"That's enough Ron," he said softly. "Harry, are you all right?" Harry nodded mutely all too aware of his own palpitating fear that seemed to throb between them like a heartbeat.

"Ron's just a bit worried about where you'd got to. No one is going to hurt you Harry," Bill murmured. Harry had clearly not managed to fool Bill. "Mum's a bit frantic but if you come and let her feed you she'll be right."

"Could you check Dumbledore's tomb when you get a chance, please Bill?" Harry found his voice. "I repaired it and sealed it with the strongest charms I know but they are still pretty basic. I'm not sure I know enough about sealing tombs and things." Bill nodded and Harry took a few deep breaths and fought to control his emotions. Shoving his hands into his pockets, determined to hide the fact that they were shaking, Harry looked around to see who else was in the Entrance Hall.

It looked as though Charlie was the one who'd been brandishing a wand as his still dangled loosely from his hand while he examined Harry critically. Ron had crossed his arms over his chest and was staring defiantly at the floor. Hermione was examining Harry with a very calculating gaze.

"So what's been going on here, then?" he asked.

"Ron had a slight problem with you running off," said Charlie. "It's been making him a bit irrational."

"I think the events of the past few days are catching up with all of us," came Mr Weasley's voice from the shadows. Harry started, he hadn't seen the Weasley patriarch on his first scan of the Entrance Hall.

"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly, running a hand through his hair. The shaking had abated and he was feeling more himself again. "I just needed to get away. I needed some time to think."

"Not to worry Harry, not to worry," Mr Weasley said. "Let's get inside and let everyone know we found you."

"I really am sorry," said Harry again, staring at the top of Ron's head, willing him to look up. "Things have been making me a bit, er, jumpy today."

"Quite all right Harry, quite all right," said Mr Weasley. "Now how about we go in and call off the search. If we don't get you in there soon Molly will be out here and I really don't think we need a repeat of last night on top of everything else."

Mr Weasley turned and led the way into the Great Hall. There was food on the table but the occupants at one end of the Gryffindor table were not eating it at all. George was staring idly at the table, gouging a small hole it in it with the point of a knife. Mrs Weasley was staring at the fireplace as if waiting for someone to Floo in. Fleur was drumming her fingers on the table, staring fixedly at the water jug. Ginny had drawn her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, all of them ignoring the food Percy was piling onto their plates.

Ron ambled up to them, sat heavily in a chair and started piling his own plate high. His arrival seemed to rouse the other occupants.

"Did you find him, Ron," his mother demanded.

"Well, he turned up eventually, yes," Ron said sullenly. Mrs Weasley shrieked and jumped up.

"Well why didn't you say so!" she demanded and she hurried around the table, her eyes seeking Harry's as he stood behind Bill. "Are you all right? Where have you been? If you keep disappearing like that you'll give us all heart attacks!" She seized his face, searching his eyes. Harry fought the urge to pull away. Eventually she released him and pushed him into the chair next to Ginny.

The tension hung over them like a thick blanket as they ate. No one spoke, the hum of other occupants of the room swarmed around them like a low buzz. Harry pushed his food around his plate and suddenly, unable to stand it any longer, he cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry I ran off this afternoon," he began. "I just needed some time to think." Ron's hands started shaking and he dropped his knife. He wouldn't look Harry in the eye. Hermione's eyes darted between the two of them; she was studying them as if trying to figure out a giant puzzle.

"I-I'm fine now," Harry finished.

"Well don't go disappearing again," Ron said quietly. "I can't go through that again. I was scared for you Harry." He finally looked up at Harry. There was pain radiating from him. "When you took off I couldn't help it, I thought you weren't going to come back this time or that something might happen to you. I got so angry that you might be gone. I couldn't bear it if you didn't come back." Hermione sniffed.

"It's okay," said Harry, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here to stay; you can't get rid of me you know. You guys are my family."

"Good," said Ron and he surreptitiously wiped his face with his sleeve as he said it. "Now I think it's time for pudding."

Harry turned to look at Ginny. She was playing with her food, her face hidden by a curtain of hair. Harry reached over, putting his hand on hers and he felt her suddenly turn her hand over and grab his tightly. He left his hand resting gently in hers for the remainder of the meal.


	9. Chapter 9

**Remembering Fred**

Everyone gradually relaxed after Ron and Harry had cleared the air although Bill still looked at Harry, when he thought Harry wasn't looking, as if there was still some mystery to be solved. Harry listened as conversation around them gradually started up.

"I want to replant the garden, when we get home," said Mrs Weasley. "Perhaps there will even be time to fix up The Burrow a bit."

"Yes, it's overdue for a painting I'd say," mused Mr Weasley. "I wonder what it will be like to work for the Ministry under Kingsley Shacklebolt. I expect that after the horrible place it has recently been I'll more likely be fixing things up for a while rather than chasing biting teakettles." Percy engaged his father at once in a discussion about working for the Ministry and where he might set his sights next. Harry's attention wandered to other conversations.

"I can't leave just yet," Charlie said softly to Bill, "but I do want to go back to the dragons."

"I don't even know if I still have a job," said Bill. "If the war's affected how Gringotts runs ..."

Hermione was talking animatedly to Fleur about completing her magical education but the conversation that transfixed Harry began when Ron questioned George about what he was going to do when they left Hogwarts and began to settle back into life again.

"I've got to back and see what the shop's like, haven't I?" George began. "I mean we left plenty of charms on it but who knows what sort of state things are in. I expect Auntie Muriel's a bit swamped in Owl Orders by now as well. They were coming in thick and fast a couple of days ago. Oh she's going to be furious with us for leaving that cauldron going, come to think of it. There will be so much we have to do. I wonder if Verity will be able to come back and work for us. She's a great little shop assistant and-" George broke off abruptly. He sighed as he scrubbed a hand over his face.

"Auntie Muriel's not going to be furious with us, is she?" he said tonelessly. "And Verity isn't going to work for us at all. We don't have a lot of work to do. I do. Just me. There _is_ no us anymore." He turned to Ron suddenly.

"How do you do it? Be, just yourself; just me. Just I, no _us_? I can't even think of me as an 'I'. I keep saying us. How am I going to live by myself, with no us, with just me?" George's voice dropped to a whisper that Harry only barely caught. "How do I just be me Ron? I don't think I can be alone. I've never been alone." Ron gazed solemnly at George before reaching out a hand and resting it on George's arm.

"You won't be alone, George. I know I'm not Fred but I won't leave you alone," Ron looked resolutely at George. "I'll be there."

"What about your seventh year?"

"I'll figure something out."

"You would do that? For me? Because I don't know how to be alone?" Ron nodded. George studied Ron for a moment.

"Okay, but you can tell Mum!" Ron laughed. It rang out across the Great Hall. It didn't take long for George to join him.

As the dishes vanished down to the kitchens below people began drifting over to the group of Weasleys. Soon there was a large group of current and former Gryffindors crowded around the table telling stories and reminiscing. Charlie soon had the group listening avidly to a recount of his first Quidditch match. Harry looked over at Ginny who was listening to her brother, a smile on her face. He watched her for a while, his hand still resting in hers before he slowly began to trace lines between the freckles on her arm. The small gap that had been between them diminished as Harry began playing with her hair and the back of her neck. Ginny still hadn't turned to look at him but somehow she was in his lap and his nose was buried in her hair as he nuzzled the side of her neck behind her ear.

"So, Potter, have you got a better Seeker catch than that?" challenged Charlie when he finished his story. "And do I have to watch you two do that?" Harry blushed. Not only did he have no idea how Charlie had caught the Snitch in his first game but he'd been caught out by one of Ginny's brothers while totally lost in her scent; the heady rush he got from just being near her.

"Well, tell Charlie your first match, Harry," suggested Oliver Wood, who was sitting opposite Harry. "I reckon that was pretty impressive!"

"Well I suppose it is a pretty good story." Harry grinned. "And I don't think Charlie would appreciate the story of my first practice – you know, the one where you told me that you'd not be surprised if I was a better Seeker than Charlie Weasley."

"Why would anybody tell you a thing like that?" Charlie grumbled.

"My first match I was so nervous I couldn't eat," Harry said, smirking at Charlie. "We were playing Slytherin and I'd never even seen a Quidditch match before. And yet Professor McGonagall had said how I'd caught Neville's Remembrall during flying lessons, after a fifty foot dive without a scratch and Charlie Weasley couldn't even have done it, it was a lot to live up to!"

"I thought you were going to tell us about your first match, Potter, not how everyone thought you were better than me," Charlie muttered.

"Just setting the scene," Harry smiled. "Halfway through the game I'm up above all the other players, so pretty high, and my broomstick starts going nuts and I was dangling off it with one hand. Actually, let's skip the bit about why. So when it stopped I got back on, how I managed that so high in the air without falling I'll never know.

"I saw the Snitch and I just headed into a dive to catch it. Brilliant dive by the way. There I am, hurtling to the ground when I caught it … in my mouth. Nearly swallowed it actually. Of course it wasn't exactly graceful since I let go of the broomstick to clap my hand over my mouth and fell onto the ground. Oh wait, I've got it here …" Harry reached into his pouch and found it, pulling it out. It fell in two halves on his palm.

"It seems like a lifetime ago," said Hermione. Harry sat quietly contemplating the Snitch and remembering that during the match Voldemort was actually trying to kill him and Snape was trying to save him. They were events that took on a whole new meaning for him now.

"I wonder if we are going to have Quidditch next year," mused Ginny. "There wasn't any this year, not that we'd have stood much of a chance really, down a Chaser and the Keeper and Seeker and Captain missing in action. I'd love to play next year."

"Well the Seeker and Captain were one and the same," Ron said, "It's not like you were missing four players. I reckon if they'd had Quidditch you still could have fielded a side. You had Beaters didn't you?"

"Reserve Chaser wasn't about either and who do you think was going to be Keeper? McClaggen had left anyway but it's not like there's any other contenders," continued Ginny, "I don't know how we're going to field a team next year anyway. Guess I won't be playing any more Quidditch."

"Well," said Harry slowly, "you'll have to try out like everyone else or it'll look like favouritism, but I'd say you've got a pretty good chance of making the team." Ginny spun around so quickly she nearly fell off his lap. Harry smiled at her.

"What do you know, Harry?" she asked, "What do you know that I don't know?" Harry casually reached into a pocket and withdrew the Quidditch Captain's badge he'd received from Professor McGonagall the night before.

"I'll let you know when trials are when we get back," he said offhandedly. "I haven't decided when to hold them yet." Ginny stared at the badge.

"You're coming back to Hogwarts? You'll be here, next year?" she said in wonderment.

"Yeah, I'll be here," Harry said. "I've hardly been on a broom this year though."

"Oh that won't make any difference Harry! You never miss the Snitch!" called Oliver Wood.

"No, because someone drummed it into him in Second Year to catch the Snitch or die trying!" George yelled. "He's taken that on board you know!"

"I did miss it third year though," Harry said. "When I fell off during that Hufflepuff match and Cedric caught it. Fred reckoned you were trying to drown yourself afterwards!" Harry had managed to say both Cedric's and Fred's names without flinching and only a slight tremor of the badge he was holding gave away his emotions.

"Pffft, Harry," said George, "If you are going to relive that memorable moment when you were devastated and Wood was suicidal because we lost a Quidditch match, you have to do it right! Here, you lay down and be all banged up from falling fifty feet, shouldn't be too hard, you look about as good now as you did then, only taller. Wood, remember to sulk, and Harry, moan about losing to _Hufflepuff_." George leapt onto the table.

"Remember what Fred said before we left?" George asked Harry. "I'll impersonate him, since none of you sods will do as good a job as me." George turned to Charlie and winked.

"Don't beat yourself up, Harry, you're still the _best_ Seeker we've ever had!" George finished with a flourish.

"Oi!" protested Charlie. "You guys are supposed to be on my side!"

"Fred, do get down off that table!" Mrs Weasley said absently as she hurried past. The silence was deafening. George remained standing on the table; his eyes followed his mother as she hurried away. The rest of them held their breath.

"And she calls herself our mother," muttered George. He turned to the group sitting around the table. "Told you I do a downright accurate impersonation of Fred!" The silence was still laying over the group like a thick blanket when George climbed down from the table. Harry could see that George's knuckles were white as he grabbed the edge of the table, holding on as if to steady himself. Suddenly George burst out, desperately, as if trying to fill the giant void that had opened up in the room,

"Harry! I have a great idea!" his voice was unnaturally loud. "Let's play Quidditch!"

"What? It's kind of dark," Harry started. George waved him off impatiently.

"Not now, tomorrow. We've got all the old team here," he waved in the direction of Oliver, Katie, Angelina and Alicia. "Well, al-almost anyway, we can play together, like old times and you can get some practice in. Wouldn't do for the Gryffindor Captain to be so out of practice he has to drop himself from the team!"

"Who are we going to play?" Harry asked cautiously, he wasn't at all sure how stable George's emotions were.

"Well I can't think of everything! Are there enough Ravenclaws here?" George's voice seemed to be wavering and he was speaking almost too fast to understand him.

"I'll find a team," came Charlie's unexpected voice. "I'd like the chance to settle who is really the best Seeker Gryffindor's ever had." He winked at Harry, his eyes watching George carefully. Bill was looking thoughtful.

"That's really good actually," he glanced around to check where Mrs Weasley was. "If we are playing Quidditch we have the perfect opportunity to be at the pitch – setting the fireworks. I'll be your Keeper, Charlie."

"Hey!" said Ron. "I wanted to be Keeper!"

"We need another Beater," George said to him. "Come and be a Beater with me." His tone was almost pleading and Harry didn't know how much longer George would be able to hold himself together. Ginny went over to George and hugged him. With her arms still around his neck she said quietly,

"Playing a match is a great way to remember Fred. I think it's a brilliant idea." Wrapping his arms around his sister George laid his head on the top of hers and let his tears fall unrestrained at last.

**********************

"I can't believe you've talked me into this Charlie!" Percy exclaimed early the next morning, holding a broomstick as if it was about to explode.

"Oh come on Perce! I was running out of options. We need someone! You're all I could think of!" Harry was trying valiantly not to laugh at the thought of Percy acting as a Beater. Charlie had managed to convince Dean and Seamus to be Chasers with Ginny who had jumped at the chance to play Quidditch. Bill had cornered Neville and pleaded with him to be one of their Beaters but they had still been one beater short. Bill was currently trying to sweet talk Madam Hooch into giving them some practice Quidditch balls. Mrs Weasley had not tried to talk them out of playing Quidditch. It seemed as though she thought they deserved a day to have fun. She admonished them all not to hurt themselves however.

Bill and George had hastily conferred and informed the others that they'd practice in the morning and put the fireworks securely in place then. Lee Jordan had been drumming up a crowd to come and watch the actual match later that afternoon, after the grounds had been set up for the memorial the next day. Hermione had set herself the task of transfiguring ordinary robes into rudimentary Quidditch gear to distinguish the teams. Ron had tracked down enough broomsticks and he, Harry and Ginny had spent time cleaning and repairing them suitable for flying. Everything was set except Percy now seemed to be backing out at the last minute.

"I got the practice balls!" Bill exclaimed climbing through the portrait hole. "It's easy to get anything you want if you tell someone Harry wants it." Harry scowled.

"Yeah, I know," said Ron. "Just tell them Harry's after a few broomsticks and suddenly they find their keys to the broomshed!" Harry's face darkened.

"They're teasing Harry," said Ginny. "I was with Ron when he wheedled the keys out of McGonagall and he didn't mention you at all."

"Well, it's not funny," grumbled Harry who had not slept particularly well the night before. "I'm going back to bed; wake me up when you all go down for practice." He could feel everyone's eyes on him as he climbed the stairs to his dorm. He closed the door to his dormitory behind him and slumped against it. He had not experienced nightmares the night before but every time he closed his eyes he'd seen either a pair of red eyes or flashes of green light or his sleep had been restless and interrupted. He'd soon given up trying to sleep shortly before dawn and sat in the Common Room, pretending he'd only been up for a few minutes when he'd been discovered shortly before breakfast by an agitated Ron.

His exhaustion must have been the antidote to the visions of red and green and he fell asleep within minutes of crawling into his bed and pulling the covers up to his chin.

He wasn't sure how long he'd slept when he felt a pillow crash down on his head and a voice yelling.

"Get up lazybones! It's Quidditch time!"

"Ron, keep it down to a dull roar," Harry complained as he crawled out of bed. Ron threw a set of transfigured Quidditch robes at him.

"C'mon, get dressed, let's go!" Ron seemed hyperactive but Harry couldn't help smiling because he hadn't seen Ron this excited for a long time. As they stumbled down the last few steps and burst into the Common Room Harry saw Charlie and Bill still trying to convince Percy to play. It was not going well. Apparently during their practice, while Harry had been sleeping, Percy had _not_ had a good time. Suddenly a flurry of activity burst across the room as Fleur leapt out of her chair and strode across the room, snatching the broomstick from Percy's grasp.

"I weel do eet!" she huffed. "I do not know why you deed not ask me before!"

"Er, you play Quidditch, Fleur?" asked Charlie.

"Of course I can play Quiddeetch! Why you have not asked me zat before I do not know," she huffed, nose to nose with Charlie. "Of course I do not _like_ to play zis game on brooms and I 'ave not played Beater before, but 'ow 'ard can zat be? You 'ave too many bruzzers and forget zat women are capable of zings!" She looked quite ferocious and as she turned away to snatch the last set of transfigured robes form Hermione.

"Well if all women are like you I'm glad I haven't got any more sisters thank you very much," said Charlie under his breath. Harry was not surprised to see Ginny turn on him.

"What exactly does that mean?" Charlie cowered, she had her wand out. Ron grew impatient and began bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Who cares what that means," he whined. "I wanna go play Quidditch!" Ginny began spluttering.

"You-you, I, well, you're just – BOYS!" She stomped away from Charlie and made to move past Ron and Harry when he reached out and pulled her to him, dipping her exaggeratedly and giving her a big smacking kiss amidst a chorus of wolf whistles and groans, the latter definitely came from Charlie and Ron, before setting her upright again.

"Something wrong with boys, Ginny?" he smirked. Ginny, whose face was now tinged with pink and wore a rather dreamy smile, shook her head. Harry released her and trailing his arm down to her hand, squeezed it, saying,

"I'll see you after practice, at lunch," before he turned and climbed out of the portrait hole with Ron.

*****************

It felt good to fly again. It was exhilarating to fly with his old team. After setting their packages of fireworks with the help of Lee Jordan and Hagrid (who had hugged Harry and squeezed him so hard that Harry was sure he'd almost cracked more than one rib), the team put themselves through some drills and played a number of games Oliver Wood showed them designed to practice Quidditch skills. By the time it came to playing the match Harry's team seemed confident and excited.

The stands were packed, it was as though everyone currently staying at the castle had come to watch the match. Lee Jordan was commentating, though it seemed he had a hard time convincing Luna she need not assist. Harry found it hard to contain a smirk as he flew past to see Lee mouthing 'Loser's Lurgy?' at the back of her head. Madam Hooch had agreed to referee the match and as Oliver and Charlie shook hands Harry soared upwards feeling freer than he had in quite some time.

"Welcome to the Inaugural Fred Weasley Memorial Quidditch Match!" announced Lee. That was new; Harry had not known they'd given it a name. As Lee announced the players of each team, who had been dubbed 'The Best Team Ever' and 'The Challengers' by Lee he noticed Charlie rise up to join him, high above the other players.

"Ready, Potter?" he challenged.

"Absolutely, Weasley," Harry returned, grinning. "You are so going down." Madam Hooch released the balls and blew the whistle to start. Harry began scanning for the Snitch, flying around the pitch with ease despite the rather dodgy broom he was on.

It took a while to get used to the quirks of the broom, it wasn't anywhere near as fast as his Firebolt had been but his skills as a flier paid off and he soon had the broom responding exactly as he liked, if at about half the speed. As Lee commented on the manoeuvres by the Chasers Harry found himself watching Ginny, her face flushed with excitement and her ponytail streaming behind her. Charlie swooped past him.

"You're not going to find the Snitch that way mate," he laughed. Harry forced his attention back to the job at hand.

It seemed no one had taken Fleur's assertion that she could play Quidditch seriously and equally clear that they should have. Angelina, Katie and Alicia spent more time dodging bludgers sent by Fleur than playing the Quaffle. This was balanced somewhat by Oliver being a much better keeper than Bill by virtue of his professional Quidditch experience. George and Ron seemed to delight in sending bludgers at Ginny in what Harry assumed was an attempt at getting him distracted for a laugh. It had the advantage of distracting Charlie who constantly flew between Ginny, to see if she was alright and Ron and George, to reprimand them.

"Would you two idiots stop that!" bellowed Bill at his siblings exasperatedly after his mother had screamed several times at the sight of a Bludger heading Ginny's way. Ron and George looked at each other sheepishly and then hit the approaching Bludgers at Dean who, nearly unseated from his broom, swore at them.

After that Charlie spent his time alternating between various strategies that other Seekers had used on Harry before. When Charlie decided to tail Harry, he led him on a merry chase right through the centre of the pitch, easily dodging the Quaffle and the Bludgers that knocked Charlie sideways. At one stage Harry thought he had seen the Snitch and headed down the pitch but the glint of gold vanished before he'd gone more than a few feet. As the match wore on he found it harder and harder to shake the other Seeker. Lee's exuberant commentary was, for once, largely uninterrupted by Professor McGonagall.

"Wood blocks a fabulous attempt at a goal by Ginny Weasley, she's a great Chaser that one, could we see her in the professional league one day? And Bell, looking mighty fine I must say, has got the Quaffle for The Best Team Ever and she scores! Bill Weasley should stick to his day job! No, Luna, I don't think he's been attacked by Wrackspurts, I think he's just not a very good player!

"Oooh that has _got_ to hurt, Fleur Weasley has just sent a Bludger that's hit all three opposing Chasers leaving the space wide open for all of theirs to assault the goals – Wood, you can't save goals by ducking! And The Challengers score and it's 90 – 120 in favour of The Challengers, who on the whole are probably just relying on Ginny and Fleur – Neville you're not supposed to duck the bludgers, hit them man!" Ron and George seemed to change tactics then and began hurling Bludgers at Neville to take him out.

"He can face Voldemort but he can't face a tiny little iron ball!" Harry heard Ron say as he swooped past him. It was then that Harry realised Fleur had changed her own tactics and was directing Bludgers that came her way to Harry. He began a complex weaving pattern designed to evade them, putting distance between himself and Charlie as he did so.

As he drew up in front of the commentary box he noticed Lee desperately trying to convince Luna that the weather conditions were not worthy of comment and he really needed to get back to the game. Percy had obviously been thrust the magical megaphone and was staring at it in distaste. He looked up and past Harry before raising it to his lips.

"I think Charlie's seen the Snitch!"

Harry swore and spun around. Charlie Weasley was indeed hurtling rapidly across the pitch but following his trajectory Harry knew he wasn't heading for the Snitch, plus he saw it glinting near Oliver's head. His eyes on the Snitch, Harry flew at a steady pace towards Oliver who was hovering near the middle goal ring. It didn't take long for Charlie to abandon the feint and begin circling the pitch. As the Snitch darted towards the ground Charlie seemed to have caught the flash it made as it changed direction and both Seekers were now heading for the Snitch, their acceleration making it apparent that they were both seeking the real target.

Harry took off after the Snitch which rapidly changed course several times, while deftly dodging Bludgers sent by a recovered Neville and a ferocious Fleur. George and Ron soon joined him to hit the Bludgers back at Charlie who was rapidly catching up. The Snitch led them the length of the pitch about four feet from the ground before rapidly spiraling upwards. Harry saw Ron go spiraling out of control towards the ground, righting himself only inches from the ground, before he tore upwards after the Snitch, Charlie close on his tail.

Harry sped past Bill, nearly knocking the older man off his broom, leveled off and tore across the pitch once more as he gained on the Snitch. Suddenly the Snitch dove earthward and Harry followed it without hesitation, the ancient school broom hurtling towards the earth with the speed of a rocket.

"And Potter is gaining on the Snitch, Charlie Weasley is totally on his tail, their reputations as Gryffindor's best Seeker is at stake here, ladies and gentlemen, you will have the answer to that question settled this afternoon and if I am not mistaken Potter's going to take out the title!" Lee did not distract Harry; his focus was on that tiny gold, winged ball. The ground was hurtling up to meet him at an accelerated rate and he thought he could hear Mrs Weasley scream something about foolishness and if her boys didn't meet their deaths this way she would kill them herself.

A scant few inches from the ground the Snitch leveled out and Harry forced himself to remain hurtling towards the earth until the last moment. He felt Charlie pull out of the dive a few seconds earlier and as he pulled up sharply to skim the grass with his toes, Harry stretched out his arm to the Snitch and felt the ancient broom wobble precariously. It had obviously not taken the sharp turn and deceleration well and began to thrash from side to side. Desperately struggling to hold the broom on course Harry urged it forward, coaxing a few more feet out of it before he closed his hand around the Snitch and raised it triumphantly.

The crowd cheered and Lee punched the air, declaring, "Harry Potter is the best Seeker Gryffindor has ever seen!"

Harry felt the broom shudder and dart upwards. He clung with one hand on the broom as the broomstick wove dangerously from side to side, gaining altitude before suddenly losing all power and speed and dropping suddenly, heading to the ground below, it's descent completely untamed. He considered that not actually being on the Quidditch team seemed not to affect whether or not he could go through a year without serious incident or injury during Quidditch as he hit the ground and blacked out.


	10. Chapter 10

**Memorial**

Every muscle and bone he had ached. His head throbbed and if he opened his eyes pain stabbed through them like knives. It didn't hurt this much to die. That was how he knew he was alive.

"Harry," he heard a soft voice, "Harry, can you hear me?" Harry groaned and felt a warm touch on his cheek. He tried to open his eyes but it hurt too much. He heard the voice again and leaned into the hand that was stroking his cheek.

"Mum is he going to be okay?"

"M-Mum?" groaned Harry.

"Can you look at me, Harry?" the soft voice asked again. "Can you open your eyes and look at me?" Harry tried to open his eyes but the light hurt his eyes. He shook his head instead but that hurt more and he moaned in pain.

"It's okay Harry. Don't try to move. You just lay there. It's okay to sleep if you want to," said the soft voice.

"Mum?" he whispered.

"Shhh, yes I'm here, it's okay now, just sleep." And Harry drifted off, comforted by the soft voice whispering to him and the warm hand stroking his face.

*****************

When Harry awoke again the pain had receded. He was able to open his eyes and the soft candlelight that illuminated the room showed he was in his bed in Gryffindor Tower, the covers tucked neatly around him, a tray of food kept warm on the bedside table and Mrs Weasley asleep in the chair pulled up to his bed. Harry put on his glasses and eased himself up on the pillows.

In her sleep Mrs Weasley looked careworn and troubled. Harry could see the grief she was suffering – and only sometimes managing to hide when awake – laid bare on her sleeping face. He realised that hers was the warm hand and soft voice he had heard earlier when he'd awoken in pain and that she was the one who had whispered she would stay with him. And she had.

Carefully, he could feel no less than four recently repaired bones, and wincing only slightly, Harry climbed out of bed and took the coverlet from it and draped it over Mrs Weasley. He didn't feel hungry; he still felt rather nauseous and as such chose to ignore the food on the bedside table. After making it to the door without incident he stepped out of the dormitory in search of company. He could hear a low rumble coming from the Common Room and hoped that he would not have to go any further to find Ginny. He needed to see her and if he had looked as bad as he had felt earlier she needed to see him; preferably upright.

As Harry entered the Common Room unnoticed, he saw George in front of the fireplace, surrounded by the rest of their team, clutching what looked suspiciously like a chipped plaster statue of Fred, wildly gesticulating to the assembled audience. Judging by the look on Ron's face and the barely concealed laughter on Ginny, Bill and Charlie's, the subject of George's discourse was probably a trick he and Fred had once played on Ron.

"I'm going to miss him," he heard George say quietly as the crowd in the Common Room grew silent. "Anyway, time to be all solemn tomorrow. Here's to Fred, and Quidditch and to the best Seeker Gryffindor's ever seen - not Charlie Weasley!"

"Yeah, yeah," grumbled Charlie, "but does he always fall off his broom?"

"Yes!" came a chorus of voices.

"Hey! I do not!" exclaimed Harry. "There's usually at least one game a year I manage to stay upright!"

"Harry!" exclaimed Hermione, "how did you get past Mrs Weasley? Are you alright? Should you be out of bed? How are you feeling?" She fired off her questions in a fair imitation of a Muggle machine gun.

"I'm fine, Hermione," said Harry as a red blur came hurtling across the room, throwing herself at him.

"You're awake!" Ginny threw her arms around his neck and he had to throw an arm out to the wall behind him to ensure he stayed on his feet. "Are you really okay? Mum shooed me out about half an hour ago so I could have dinner, she said she'd tell me when you were up!" Harry wound his arms around her waist.

"I'm fine," murmured Harry, "especially now." And he buried his face in her neck, planting kisses along her collarbone.

"He's doing that to annoy us you know," Charlie's conversational tone cut through his senses.

"It's working," stated Ron matter-of-factly.

"And what are you going to do about it then?" asked Bill with amusement.

"Absolutely nothing," George simpered in falsetto. "Do you iknow/i who that is?"

"Yes," replied Percy, "the best Seeker Gryffindor has ever seen!" The occupants of the Gryffindor Common Room burst out laughing at the disgruntled look on Charlie's face. Harry directed a rude hand gesture at George behind Ginny's back, his lips still on her skin.

"I zink eet ees sweet," Fleur said dreamily as Harry wound his hand into Ginny's hair, she arched her neck, exposing her throat for him to kiss before he moved up to her lips.

"I told them not to do that in front of me – I swear, they are doing that on purpose!" Ron whined before Hermione shushed him loudly. Harry pulled away from Ginny and grinned at her.

"I missed you," he whispered. "It's a good thing your mum is asleep or she would probably have kept me prisoner up there in my bed. But I needed to see you."

"I needed to see you too," Ginny whispered back. "Come sit with me?" Harry nodded. He let her lead him over to a chair by the fireplace and they sat in it together, curled around each other like a pair of cats. Harry played drowsily with Ginny's hair as he let the conversation of others wash over him, eventually succumbing to sleep in her arms.

******************

When Harry awoke from a fitful night's sleep filled with echoing green flashes and piercing red eyes he was back in his own bed with Ron and Neville snoring loudly nearby. Mrs Weasley had gone, along with the dinner tray, and a pristine set of black robes were laid out across the foot of his bed. He did not want to think on ihow/i he had been returned to his bed (again!) but the prospect of thinking about why he had a set of new black robes was even less appealing.

Today was not going to be an easy day.

He got ready for the day slowly, the rest of the dormitory's occupants rousing slowly from sleep. Dean and Seamus had also been asleep behind their curtains and for a few moments Harry could almost capture the spirit that had echoed throughout his years at Hogwarts as Neville poked Ron to stop him snoring, Ron grumbled back at him before lumbering out of bed and into the bathroom, Seamus looked in vain for socks and Dean straightened out a rather faded looking West Ham poster that had obviously been left up since sixth year.

Harry sat on the edge of his bed after tying his shoes, staring into space.

"You all right mate?" asked Ron. Harry sighed. What was the answer to that question anyway? He wasn't dead from the battle or falling from a broomstick. He was safe and cozy tucked up in the castle. He wasn't going hungry. He had finished the task he'd been set by Dumbledore. His whole life stretched out in front of him, Voldemort free and unfettered. So many things that had not been all right over the past year were now all right but that didn't mean he was all right, not today. Today was going to be a difficult day.

"Not today, I'm not, but soon," Harry replied eventually. "Soon I'll be all right." He got up, sighed heavily and turned to go down to breakfast.

The mood in the Great Hall was somber. Ron and Harry joined the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione at the Gryffindor table for breakfast but nobody was really eating anything. George and Mrs Weasley both looked pale, the latter showing the beginnings of dark smudges under her eyes. Eventually even Ron gave up the pretence of eating and they simply sat there, the murmur of Mr and Mrs Weasley's conversation about returning to The Burrow a low hum in the background. It seemed as though Mr Weasley, Bill, Charlie and Percy were planning to return to the Burrow that morning to ensure all was in readiness for the family's return the next day.

The Memorial Service for those who had fallen during the Battle of Hogwarts was not due to start until late afternoon and Harry had little to occupy his thoughts until that time. He had just begun to think that he could not simply sit in the Great Hall all day and should do something; anything would do, when he noticed Professor McGonagall approaching, Kingsley Shacklebolt trailing in her wake.

"A word with you if we may, Mr Potter," the Professor asked. She did not look or sound nearly as severe as she usually did. Harry shrugged and stood up.

"Do you know the charm required for – for this afternoon, Harry?" Harry nodded, his memory of the last time he had carved words into stone making it too difficult to speak.

"Oh good," Professor McGonagall sighed in relief. "Mr Creevey hasn't yet learnt it. I am afraid it had not occurred to anyone that his education had not advanced far enough. Ms Granger, I don't suppose you have time to teach it to him?" Hermione nodded and made to get up but George stopped her.

"I'll go," he said. "I need something to do." As Harry watched George leave a sudden thought occurred to him, one that had not occurred to him before. Snape's body was probably still in the Shrieking Shack. Did any of the Order grasp his true role or what he had ultimately done? Whose side he was really on? Had anyone understood the nature of his bravery during that confrontation with Voldemort? Was Snape's name going to be carved into the gleaming white monument?

"Kingsley!" he said breathlessly. "Snape! Has anyone retrieved Professor Snape's body? Who's carving his name on the monument?"

"He has been retrieved," Kingsley rumbled in his deep voice. "We have been unable to find his next of kin. It appears he doesn't have any magical family left. At present I do not know who will carve his name; most likely a Ministry Official or perhaps a member of the Order will volunteer."

"I'll do it," Harry said firmly. He was aware of several sets of eyes gazing at him. Resolute he kept his eyes on Kingsley and swallowed hard. Kingsley inclined his head in a slight nod as he appraised Harry carefully. Harry squirmed uncomfortably for a moment before finding his voice. "Er, what was it you came to see me about?"

"Perhaps we could use my office, Minister?" suggested Professor McGonagall. Harry glanced at Ron, Hermione and Ginny before he turned to go, telling them wordlessly that he would come and find them when he had finished. Then he turned and followed the temporary Minister for Magic and Interim Headmistress from the room.

When they got to McGonagall's office Kingsley wasted no time, turning to Harry he got straight to the point.

"People are clamouring for an awards ceremony," he began. "More than one person has asked why I haven't scheduled one to give you the Order of Merlin. It's obvious they want to see you." Harry stared at Kingsley, aghast.

"I haven't even buried those I lost!" he spat. "I don't iwant/i some stupid awards ceremony and people gawking at me! I won't do it!"

"I'm not asking you to Harry," Kingsley's deep voice was placating. "I just thought perhaps we could make a statement in the iDaily Prophet/i to satisfy people for now. I wouldn't want to put your name on anything without speaking to you first though. Will you speak to someone from the newspaper, just briefly?" Harry glowered.

"Can't you just release a statement that I'm busy mourning the dead right now and they can all wait until I'm ready?"

"Well, yes, I suppose that would be sufficient, but you can't dodge this forever, Harry." Kingsley sighed heavily.

"I know I can't," Harry replied, "but I can put it off. I'll come and see you next week." Kingsley made arrangements for Harry to contact his secretary and left, saying he would see them that afternoon. Professor McGonagall turned to Harry.

"We're all here for you Harry, no one will let you go through this alone," she paused as Harry studied the floor. "Take your time, you have time."

"Thanks," Harry muttered. He had not yet reckoned on the impact to his fame. It's not that he was stupid and thought it wouldn't impact but he hadn't exactly had time to reflect on it. His life could turn into a circus.

"Anything else, Professor?" he asked McGonagall.

"No, nothing else, Mr Potter," she shook her head sadly. She paused for a moment, clearly considering if she should say something. "When Albus left you at the Dursley's I argued with him. He convinced me that you'd be better off away from the fame, until you were ready. I wish I could spare you now, Harry, but I think now you are ready. As a child you were far better off, growing up away from all that, but we can't and shouldn't shield you any longer, you're not a child anymore." Professor McGonagall paused, "that's not going to stop Molly Weasley mothering you though. You should let her." She patted him on the shoulder and ushered him out the door. Harry spared her half a smile before striding off down the corridors in search of Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

On the way out of the Great Hall, after failing to find any Weasleys or Hermione, he found Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood and if he wasn't mistaken they had just been snogging behind a suit of armour that had been set back crookedly on its plinth.

"Hello Harry," sang Luna. "Ginny said to tell you they've gone up to the Common Room. Mrs Tonks was with them. I think she wants to talk to you. I expect a lot of people want to talk to you don't they Harry?" Harry just nodded.

"Well, we don't, do we Luna?" said Dean. "Er, not that we don't like you or anything mate but well, you see, things to do, you know…" He trailed off and Harry failed to hide a smirk.

"Oh yes, come on I was going to show you my pictures of Flibbering Flobgobblers," and Luna began tugging on his hand. Harry was not at all convinced that Dean followed her because he wanted to look at Flibbering Flobgobblers. He gave Dean a wink and a little salute as the other man trailed after Luna and then continued up the Grand Staircase, heading for the Common Room. It was a lengthy procedure because it seemed the portraits were among those who wanted to talk to him. At first he politely accepted their congratulations and effusive thanks but by the fifth floor he was nodding curtly and striding past, muttering a general thanks to four or five portraits at a time.

Harry reached the portrait of the Fat Lady who, without looking up, droned,

"Password?"

"Er," Harry began, realising that he had no idea. The first morning he, Ron and Hermione had found the portrait hanging drunkenly open, the Fat Lady fled and they had simply crawled through. Since then, he'd been carried up there unconscious or asleep or someone else had opened it. "I don't know it." The Fat Lady looked up startled.

"Oh it's you! You don't need it!" and the Fat Lady began an effusive shower of thanks that lasted for several minutes. Finally managing to get her to stop Harry ventured,

"So d'you think I could go in?" The Fat Lady, who had begun crying with joy (Harry hoped it was joy) sniffed rather loudly, blew her nose with a noise and a handkerchief that would put Hagrid to shame and swung open. Harry climbed awkwardly through and then stopped, transfixed at the sight that greeted him.

Ginny Weasley was sitting in a squashy armchair by the fireplace, Teddy Lupin cradled in her arms, talking animatedly to him. Sunlight streamed through the window, reflecting off her hair and Ginny's face lit up as she spoke softly to the baby who was looking up at her and smiling. Harry leaned against the wall, at the entrance to the Common Room and watched her. He had no desire to disturb the tableau because it was one of the most beautiful things he had seen in quite some while.

Harry watched as Ginny made faces at the baby, would she one day cradle his baby, their baby, and talk lovingly to him? Would she make those faces at his son? As he watched her bring her face right up to Teddy's and rub noses with his and then blow a raspberry on his neck before moving down to do the same to his fat little tummy, Harry knew without a doubt that one day he wanted her to do that to his son. To itheir/i baby.

He was so caught up in watching Ginny that he did not notice Mrs Tonks join him. He realised she was standing at his side only when she spoke softly.

"She's quite a picture isn't she?"

Harry felt a blush grace his cheeks at being caught staring at his girlfriend. It felt wonderful to think that. She hadn't been his girlfriend for a year, but she was now and Mrs Tonks was right, she was a picture.

"Yeah," he breathed. "She's beautiful." Harry turned back to watch Ginny with the baby once more.

"Harry, could we have a talk? There are a few things I'd like to say," Mrs Tonks said hesitantly, as if she feared Harry would refuse.

"Sure," began Harry, "I wanted to talk to you the other night but, well there were a few issues." Harry looked sheepishly at the floor.

"Oh yes, issues like shouting matches with young Mr Weasley," Mrs Tonks was looking at him kindly although he could see the sorrow etched on her features. She inclined her head towards a small table near one of the windows and the two of them made their way there, Harry waving at Ginny as she looked up and saw him. Ginny did not attempt to get up but simply smiled at him and nodded briefly before turning back to Teddy and stroking his downy head.

"I'm sorry about Ted and about Dora, Mrs Tonks," Harry said as he sat down.

"Thank you, please Harry, call me Andromeda. I think perhaps that we shall be getting well acquainted in the coming years. It wouldn't do to stand on ceremony," she smiled a sad smile at him. "Dora and Remus told me that they had made you Teddy's godfather." She paused and it seemed as if she wanted him to speak.

"Yeah, Remus asked me the night he came to tell us Teddy was born," Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair nervously. "I don't know a lot about being a godfather because I never really had mine. But that just means I want Teddy to have me around. I have no idea what I am doing but I want to be around for him.

"I don't know anything about babies Mrs – Andromeda. I'm surprised I didn't break him the other day. I don't really know him. I want to though. Can I come and visit sometimes, so that me and Teddy, we can get to know each other?"

"Oh, of course you can! Anytime you want to," Andromeda looked wistfully at her grandson. "He's all I've got left. Sometimes I can't believe he's all I've got left."

"If you or Teddy need anything you know you can ask me," Harry stated. It was not a question. "If it's within my power, I'll do it." Andromeda looked at him.

"There isn't a lot that isn't within your power, Harry Potter." Harry blushed. He was not going to let Teddy down. He didn't blame Sirius for anything that had happened to him but he was also determined that Teddy would know his godfather and he was going to give him all that he could. And he needed to start by actually picking him up voluntarily.

"Can I - can I hold him?" he asked hesitantly. Andromeda smiled.

"I think if you can pry him away from your lovely young lady you can hold him as long as you like."

Harry spent the rest of the morning with his godson. It hadn't taken Harry long to pry the baby away from Ginny, it seemed Ginny liked watching Harry with a baby as much as Harry liked watching Ginny with one.

Teddy had a little crease in his forehead that mimicked the one Harry had often seen on Remus when he was trying to figure something out and when Teddy changed his hair pink and his little eyes crossed involuntarily he was the image of his mother. He was fascinated by Harry's glasses and whenever he saw Ginny it wasn't long before he changed his hair to a lovely shade of red. It seemed as though he had a fondness for dragons because that was the toy he most avidly followed when Harry charmed the stuffed toys in his pram to fly around him.

"Well, I'm not going to introduce him to Hagrid then," said Harry. "Not if he likes dangerous things!"

"Maybe he just likes it because it's red?" said Ginny thoughtfully.

"Do you think so?" Harry tilted his head to the side and watched Teddy for a moment.

"He likes my hair too," answered Ginny. Harry waved his wand and charmed all the toys red and little Teddy was mesmerised.

"His favourite colour is red," Harry smiled as he picked him and nestled him in the crook of his arm. "It's a good choice mate, I like red too. Red hair is simply marvelous, especially when it's all shiny and it smells good." Teddy stared up at Harry. He'd just had a bottle, Andromeda had changed his nappy and he was looking a little drowsy. Harry reached out a finger to trail down Teddy's cheek and the baby's eyes fluttered shut. A few moments later Teddy was squirming so Harry patted him on his back. He was sure he'd seen Aunt Petunia do that with a visiting baby once when he was small. It seemed to help calm him so Harry lay back semi reclined on the couch he was sitting on and shifted little Teddy to lie with his chest on Harry's so that he could more easily pat his back. Teddy lifted up his head and gazed at Harry, making a soft cooing sound.

"It's okay little guy," Harry crooned. "You can go to sleep. I'll still be here when you wake up." Teddy laid his head down on Harry's chest and Harry began patting his back. The baby sighed and snuggled closer to Harry, shifting slightly to situate himself over Harry's heartbeat. Harry watched Teddy drift off and then his eyes drifted shut as well and the two of them slumbered on the couch in front of the fire.

*******************

"Awwww isn't that cute."

"Stop it!"

Harry opened his eyes to find Teddy awake but still cradled on his chest and Ron sniggering a few feet away while Hermione remonstrated with him.

"Hey Ron, have you met my godson?" Harry rose from the couch, walked to Ron and handed little Teddy to him, stifling a snort as Ron paled and held the baby most awkwardly. Teddy gazed up at Ron, a look of fascination on his tiny features, before turning his hair a fetching shade of red.

"Well he's a bit of a midget, Harry," said Ron. Hermione made impatient clucking noises with her mouth and proceeded to sit Ron down in a nearby chair and instruct him on how to hold a baby. Harry was stunned to see Ron go along without complaint.

"Girls go all mushy when they see a baby." A voice came from his elbow and Harry turned to see Charlie watching Ron and Hermione as Ron cradled the infant in the crook of one arm while he pulled faces at him. Charlie looked sideways at Harry. "Especially a bloke holding a baby."

"I reckon a bloke can go all mushy for a girl if they see her holding one too, Charlie," Harry said, without missing a beat. He turned to Charlie and grinned evilly. "Ginny has been holding Teddy most of the morning." Charlie shot him a disgusted look. Harry just smiled as he recalled exactly how Ginny had looked that morning, unaware that Charlie was now looking, shocked, at the expression on Harry's face.

"You're in love with her, aren't you?" said Charlie so softly Harry barely heard him. Harry turned to look at Charlie then.

"Yeah, I reckon I am." Charlie was silent for a moment before he said,

"She's in love with you. She has been for years," he paused and smiled. "You should thank Bill and me. We bought her a picture book for her fifth birthday. I reckon she's had her heart set on you since then."

"What was the book called?" asked Harry, curious and yet dreading the answer at the same time.

"The Boy Who Lived, the Harry Potter Story." Charlie grinned. Harry rolled his eyes and turned back to see Hermione remonstrating Ron who appeared to be trying to sing the Chudley Canons theme song to a protesting Teddy.

"I doubt anyone fell in love with anyone else over a picture book, Charlie," he said.

"I know what I see, Harry," Charlie said, grinning.

"They made picture books? That's mad." Harry paused. "D'you reckon she still has it?" Charlie stifled a laugh.

"Positive mate. I watched her pack it when we went to Muriel's!" Harry resolved to examine this curious artefact from Ginny's childhood as soon as possible. Teddy was fussing in Ron's grasp and Harry stepped forward to relieve him of the burden.

"Come on, let's go and find grandma, little one," he crooned, his stomach rumbled. "And maybe some lunch."

Harry felt all the eyes in the Great Hall on him as he strode in, holding a screaming baby. He noted, thankfully, that he had indeed found Andromeda and handed the infant over quickly when the woman came hurrying towards him. Mrs Weasley was looking at Harry rather thoughtfully and he quickly found a seat next to Ginny, pulling a plate of sandwiches towards himself. Ginny herself seemed to have been staring at him with a distant smile on her face and Harry recalled with a jolt what Charlie had said about girls falling for blokes with babies and then about her childhood book.

"Hey Ginny," he said casually, "I was thinking about getting Teddy a book, what sort of wizard storybooks did you read when you were little?" Ron and George choked on their food and coughed. Bill turned to look at Charlie, a questioning grin on his face and Ginny turned bright red.

"Oh, well a few different ones, you know, Beedle the Bard, Maida the Muse," Ginny trailed off and hastily stuffed a sandwich in her mouth.

"Yeah, we know Beedle," muttered Hermione. "Bit more intimately than we ever wanted to really. Say Ginny, did you guys ever have one of the picture books about Harry? I've never read one and well, there's bound to be new editions now I'd love to know if you've still got an old one tucked away somewhere. It'd be fascinating to compare them." Ginny's brothers, including Percy burst out laughing and Mr Weasley looked bemused. Ginny turned a deeper shade of maroon and turned beseechingly to her mother.

"I know there was one," said Mrs Weasley thoughtfully, not seeing her daughter at all. "I expect it's somewhere in the attic now." Ron stopped laughing with some difficulty and looked at Harry who winked at him.

"Mum, I think I know exactly where to find that book," Ron proclaimed. "As soon as we get iGinny's stuff/i back from Auntie Muriel's she can get it for you." Ginny made a noise like a strangled cat and leapt from her chair but Harry caught her wrist and pulled her back down into his lap. When she failed to pull herself away from the arms that snaked their way around her waist Ginny simply buried her face in Harry's chest in embarrassment.

"Shame on you, teasing Ginny like that," he grinned at the assembled red heads. "I think it's endearing that she's got a Harry Potter storybook and she's kept it all these years." Ginny's head shot up and she looked him in the eyes.

"You knew? Which one of them told you?" her eyes narrowed as she looked at her brothers in turn. For their part they collectively began studying the ceiling of the Great Hall which showed a perfectly clear, cloudless day. Harry nudged his head into Ginny's neck, nuzzling her ear.

"Don't be embarrassed, Ginny," Harry said. "I think it's dreadfully sweet." She grinned evilly at him before switching her attention to Ron.

"Don't worry Ron," she said. "When I packed my precious childhood possessions in case of impending doom I also packed all your comics … oh, and all your letters from Hermione, you know the ones in the box marked 'Letters from the future Mrs Ronald Weasley'." Ron turned a spectacular shade of red and turn to growl at her. He looked ready to lunge across the table at her. Ginny's eyes were dancing with laughter in a way they had not been for quite some time and Hermione, faintly pink, was holding onto Ron's arm and whispering something that was hopefully calming in his ear.

"That's enough, you lot," said Mr Weasley mildly. "I'm afraid we need to finish up and get ready for this afternoon. What did Kingsley want this morning, Harry? Anything of concern?"

"Only if you count increased fame and an Order of Merlin of concern," sighed Harry. "There's too much going on to worry about that now. I managed to put him off but I'm going to have to deal with it sooner or later. I need to say good-goodbye first." He blinked, willing the tears to vanish. He'd been having a good day under the circumstances but now he just felt sad again and he tightened his hold on Ginny's waist. She leaned into him and Harry let her stroke one soft hand up and down his arm, soothing him and calming him.

Harry's words seemed to sober the group at the table and they all returned silently to eating contemplating the difficult afternoon ahead.

********************

As Harry headed out of the castle he saw hundreds of chairs set out in rows facing Dumbledore's white marble tomb, a large white marble slab had been erected next to it, etched with a border of swirling vines. The sun that hung over the beautiful summer's day caressed his face as he walked across the grass. He was horribly reminded of Dumbledore's funeral. Filch standing silently near the castle doors in the same mothball scented suit did not do much to change that.

Gripping Ginny's hand, Harry followed Mr and Mrs Weasley slowly up the aisle between the seats to a row near the front where they filed in and took their places, George and Harry sat on the edge of the aisle so that they could exit easily when their part of the service was scheduled. Harry, noticing a buzz had erupted nearby and catching a few words that sounded like 'Harry Potter' slouched in his seat and reflexively flattened his fringe over his scar. He then concluded that he wasn't fooling anybody by doing it and he'd better start getting used to it. He let out a lengthy sigh.

"Yeah, I know," said George quietly his eyes fixed on the blank white slab. "I don't know if Dennis is going to hold it together. He was a mess earlier today." Harry squeezed Ginny's hand tighter in his grip and clasped his other hand on George's shoulder. The chairs were filling up slowly and on the small raised dais Kingsley and Professor McGonagall had taken their seats but it wasn't going quickly enough for Harry. Every minute he sat there dragged on and with every minute he heard more and more whispers that sounded like his name.

Dennis Creevey came slowly up the aisle, his footsteps dragging as he got closer to the front. As he stopped hesitantly near George and Harry, staring at the great white slab, members of the DA stepped silently up behind him. Neville slung an arm around the smaller boy's shoulders and as the rest of the DA filed into the row in front of Harry, Neville held Dennis while he cried. In an effort to stop the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks, Harry shifted his gaze to stare fixedly at the lone tentacle that the Giant Squid was waving out of the Lake. A quiet sniff from George indicated that he had not managed the same. As Harry slipped his arm awkwardly around George's shoulders Dennis pulled himself from Neville's grasp and flung himself at George who hugged the younger boy. For a few moments the three of them huddled together and simply cried, Harry losing his battle with the falling tears.

Soon Dennis had been seated between George and Harry, the Weasleys having all moved up a seat to make room. The younger boy was pale and shaky, making no attempt to stop the stream of tears that ran in rivulets down his face. Harry remained almost motionless, one hand resting in Ginny's and the other arm along the back of Dennis's chair. George appeared to be staring fixedly at the back of Neville's head, one foot tapping a silent but nervous rhythm on the grass. The low hum of conversation ceased as Kingsley Shacklebolt rose on the dais and cast a iSonorous/i charm on his throat.

Harry didn't hear what Kingsley said, mostly. He heard that they were there to remember those who had died in the battle four days ago. He heard that they had fought valiantly and were brave. He heard that the cause they died for was good. And he heard that the world was safe and their deaths not in vain. He could also hear the contradictory sound of birds chirping in the trees, the creaking of the Whomping Willow's branches and the lazy splash of the Giant Squid. He heard Hagrid as he blew his nose on his tablecloth sized handkerchief. He heard muffled sobs and sniffles and the occasional splash as a tear dripped from Dennis's face and landed on the chair with a soft 'plink!' Harry forced his concentration back to Kingsley.

"-and we honour their sacrifice as we remember them and as we live our lives fully, doing all the things that they died to give to us. They did not die to see us mourn; they died to see us live. So let us mourn for a time, so that they will not be forgotten and then live as they would have us live. For in becoming the people that they wished for us to become we do their memory the greatest honour.

"For all those who fought at this battle, for all those who fought in this war and the last and for all those who have laid down their lives so that our children can grow up in a safe world, we live. And our lives will stand as a monument to those who gave theirs."

Professor McGonagall rose as Kingsley sat down, a scroll in her hands. For a moment it looked absurdly as though she was about to commence the sorting, a notion that was momentarily served when she unrolled it and began reading, alphabetically, the names of those who had perished in this, the last battle. One by one the closest kin of those who had died defending Hogwarts and in defiance of Voldemort came forward, most being supported by family members, to carve the names on the memorial and as they did so a minutes silence was observed for each of the fallen.

Creevey wasn't very far down the list but when Colin's name was read out, Dennis did not move. He remained shaking and pale perched on the seat between Harry and George. Harry nudged him with his arm but this did nothing to move Dennis who simply looked, petrified, at Harry. As Harry gazed at the younger boy he didn't stop to think as he tightened him arm around his shoulders and pulled Dennis with him as he stood up. He had taken two steps when he realised that George had risen also. The two older wizards flanked the younger, arms around him as they walked slowly up to the monument.

Harry and George held Dennis upright as, through his tears, he carved 'Colin Creevey' on the monument, an everlasting reminder of the enthusiastic young photographer. Harry stood there, his eyes reading over the people who had been lost before he, George and Dennis turned around and still holding one another up returned to their seats.

Harry watched as Andromeda Tonks, tears streaming down her face, stepped quietly up to the monument and carved her daughter's name there. And then McGonagall was reading out Remus John Lupin and Harry numbly got to his feet once more. Somehow, he didn't know how, Harry found his way to the monument once again, this time alone, and raising his wand etched the name of the last of his parents' friends beneath 'Nymphadora Tonks Lupin', tears streaming down his cheeks. His heart ached as he read the words he had carved and his mind flashed back to Shell Cottage and Dobby, his name carved on a headstone there.

Blindly he made his way back to his seat and Professor McGonagall read on, down her list. The names of people he'd never heard of etching themselves on his memory as surely as they were being etched into the stone. Miles Midgley … Rudolph Pemberton … Enid Plaskett … Mary Romily … Eias Scriven …

Severus Snape.

Harry rose wearily to his feet once more unable to know if he was capable of going up there one more time. He gripped Ginny's hand and squeezed it tightly before letting go and turning to make his way back to the monument, his heart heavy, the beat pounding relentlessly through his ears. His hands shook and he gripped the chair in front of him. Suddenly a strong arm grasped his shoulders and he was pulled into a rough hug. Ron guided him back up to the monument and held him up while he carved the name of their once hated potions master into the monument. Ron and Harry had not left the monument when Professor McGonagall's clear voice shook as she read the final name on her scroll.

Fred Weasley.

They stayed, motionless at the monument as George rose slowly and stepped out into the aisle. Harry could hear Mrs Weasley sobbing into her husband's shoulder and see Ginny clinging to Hermione as George made the short, solitary journey to the monument. A wand gripped tightly in his white knuckled hand George stood before the monument, his head bowed, fighting the tears that threatened to cascade down his cheeks. He raised the wand, and Harry realised it was Fred's, and began to shakily carve the name. He got only as far as the first 'e' when he faltered, nearly dropping the wand as he sank to his knees. And then Ron was there, kneeling beside his older brother, holding George's hand up, steady in his own, to finish carving their brother's name. Then Harry and Ron wrapped their arms around George, pulling him to his feet and the three walked together back to their chairs.

The sun was beginning to sink by the time the service finished, bathing Hogwarts in a yellow light and softening the jagged edges still to be repaired. People moved quietly across the lawns but Harry sat silently in his chair looking at the monument, its carved list of names making permanent the lives lost.

*******************

Dinner in the Great Hall was a quiet affair that night. People seemed too spent to expend much energy and despite their swelled ranks, as those who had arrived from Hogsmeade and the Ministry remained for a meal, it was quiet and somber.

Mrs Weasley appeared to have dropped any pretense that she had been holding onto the past few days and carried her grief openly on her face rather than concealed behind carefully schooled expressions and guarded features. She ate little and remained in her husband's embrace as he ate one handed. George seemed to have regained his composure somewhat although he was still quiet. The silence at the end of the table where the Weasleys were sitting with Kingsley Shacklebolt and several Aurors was broken by Percy.

"I must say, Minister, that was a wonderful speech you gave this afternoon," he said. "I too think the best memorial we can give to those who are gone is to live, now that we can do so without fear. I should be most happy to offer my services to help rebuild the Ministry, and our world, in any way that you can make use of me."

"Blimey Perce, was that a job application?" enquired George. "Fred would be glad to know your ambition's not changed!" Ron snorted.

"Make fun of him more like," he said. "Are you making a joke or a job application Percy?" Percy looked at Ron thoughtfully, his chin on his hand.

"Well I did submit my resignation after all. D'you think it still stands if you deliver it to a sea urchin or should I put it in writing?"

"Sea urchin?" enquired Kingsley with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, I sort of ah, turned Minister Thicknesse into one right before the Acromantulas broke through," Percy paused. "Only I am pretty sure Fred hit him with something too after you three stunned his Death Eater." Percy gestured to Harry, Ron and Hermione. "Who knows what exactly the Minister looked like after that." Harry shook involuntarily as images of the moment Fred had died swam through his mind.

"You all right mate?" Ron asked quietly. Harry shook his head wordlessly and put down the goblet he had been holding before he spilled its entire contents all over himself. He clenched his hands into fists in an effort to stop the shaking and closed his eyes only to see streaks of green light behind the lids. Green light streaking towards his father, his mother, Cedric, Dumbledore, himself, missing Ginny by an inch. He snapped his eyes open to find everyone watching him.

"I'm fine," he said but he knew that Bill did not believe him and he was sure, from the look on her face, that Hermione shared his scepticism.

"So what happened next," he heard George ask quietly and Ron gulped audibly.

"Well, the Minister went down-" began Percy but George interrupted him.

"To Fred," he said abruptly. "I want to know what happened to Fred." There was a deathly silence. Finally Ron broke it.

"He congratulated Percy on his joke," he said. "He was pretty chuffed that Percy had managed a joke. It was a good gift to give him Perce, at the – the end." Ron stumbled over the last few words and fell silent.

"And then what?" George's voice was harsh in the stillness. Mrs Weasley reached a hand out to him but he shrugged away from her. "I want to know what happened to Fred." Percy opened and closed his mouth, Ron looked away before burying his face in his hands and Hermione was white and clearly unable to speak.

"George," began Bill, "don't do this-"

"No! I wasn't there, I don't know what happened. I need to know," George pleaded. "I keep imagining all sorts of things and it's all horrible and terrifying and every time I shut my eyes it's something new, something different; and none of its real, because I wasn't there. I wasn't there and he died without me." He trailed off brokenly and the tears that filled his eyes threatened to course down his cheeks at any moment.

"It was the walls," said Hermione softly. "The walls blew apart."

"He was smiling," whispered Ron.

"He was laughing at me," said Percy.

As he looked into George's pained eyes Harry watched his father, his mother, Cedric, Sirius and Dumbledore all fall again.

"The world fell apart," Harry said quietly to George. "That's what happens next. The world falls apart."

No one spoke for several minutes after that. Mrs Weasley's sobs were the only noise to break the silence as the moment stretched on forever. Eventually George spoke.

"We have to put it back together again. We have to pick up the pieces and go on." Harry looked away; he didn't know how anymore, there were so many pieces missing now.

"Everybody leaves something behind," Mr Weasley said, as if he read Harry's mind. "Soon the missing pieces will seem smaller, when we remember and embrace the pieces that are left, the parts they left behind." His words seemed to energise George who suddenly leapt from his chair.

"Then let's go and find some of Fred," he said. "Let's do something he'd love. Everybody outside!" He grabbed Ginny's hand as he strode towards the doors of the Great Hall, the rest of their siblings, Harry, Hermione, Fleur and Lee Jordan hurried behind.

"Come on Mum, Dad!" called Charlie. Mr Weasley seemed to make a decision then and he urged his wife to her feet and they followed their family out, the rest of the occupants of the Great Hall spilling after them.

George was tearing down to the Quidditch pitch, Lee, Ron and Bill in his wake. Harry watched as the four of them aimed their wands at the four towers of the pitch and set off the first of the fireworks that had been placed there the day before. The lawns were filled with people making noises of awe and wonder at the spectacular display of dazzling lights that began streaking across the heavens.

Enormous fluorescent Catherine wheels, sparkling green and red dragons, rockets trailing gold and silver stars and multi coloured firecrackers erupted from the Quidditch pitch, hurling themselves into the night sky and exploding over the lawns. Harry recognized the same sorts he had seen during his fifth year but Fred and George had obviously produced a few more varieties before hiding them and escaping the school and Umbridge. He could also see enormous winged horses that cycled the colours of the rainbow and soaring, sparkling bullets that exploded in mid air to let out a shower of miniature lions in red and gold. In the midst of the spectacular light show Harry saw George release sparklers that wrote huge letters in the sky.

'iFIREWORKS FOR FRED/i', they spelled out over and over in red across the night sky. And then another set were writing in gold, a message that said it was time to live, to celebrate. The crowd gasped and oooooooohed and ahhhhhhhed. The last shot of writing sparklers shot out high into the night sky, surrounded by fire breathing dragons and scores of miniature lions and they wrote in green across the sky, 'iTHANKS HARRY!/i'

As the cheers erupted around him Harry felt his eyes fixed on the green streaks of light as the sparklers wrote his name over and over again. He felt the world receding, knew he had slumped to the ground, saw Hermione look at him concernedly, Ron swimming into view, Ginny hovering over him but then he could only see the green flashes, his name written in green light and then the green light was shooting towards his father, towards his mother, towards Cedric. The green flashes threw Dumbledore off the tower, missed Ginny by an inch and headed straight for him. Sound broke through his consciousness, they were calling his name but he couldn't respond there was only the green light flashing towards him over and over again.

He wrenched his eyes shut but the green flashes of light did not go away, they were streaking again towards his father, his mother, Cedric, Dumbledore, himself, Ginny.

"NO!" he pulled the rasping sound desperately from his throat. "Stop!" He felt like he had to claw away from the green light and fighting desperately with the images in his brain he felt strong hands on his face. He forced his eyes open to look straight into Bill's. Harry grasped Bill's forearms as if holding onto the one thing that would stop him from drowning.

"Make it stop," he forced out. "Make it stop." Bill looked him steadily in the eyes.

"Harry, it's okay," he spoke softly, calmly. "I've got you. Hang on to me. What do you need to stop? Tell me what you need to stop." Harry felt his grip on Bill loosening.

"Flashing – stop – lights –dying –," he breathed out before his energy was spent and his eyes slid shut.

"Stay with me Harry, I've got you," he heard the desperation in Bill's voice and tightened his hands around the older man's forearms. Hermione's shriek came piercing through his head as he fought the panic and fear that was overtaking his body. Fighting to continue the deep measured breaths needed to sustain life.

"Green flashing lights! George, stop the green sparklers!" Harry could hear scrambling and cursing around him and he willed his eyes open to find Bill still holding his gaze, the green writing in the sky framing Bill's head. Harry gripped Bill's arms tighter, his fingernails digging into the other man's flesh, fighting down wave after wave of rising panic, his breathing coming in short jerking gasps.

"You're okay Harry. Stay with me. We're making it stop," Bill said. "Breathe, Harry!" And Bill told him when to breathe in and when to breathe out and Harry, looking into Bill's eyes, obeyed. He focused on Bill, breathing in and out slowly and listening to his voice softly telling him he was safe. As he looked into Bill's eyes the green flashing faded away and the waves of panic subsided, replaced by ghostlike glimpses of green on the edges of his vision and a shaking he was unable to control.

Harry closed his eyes, still breathing slowly in and out and clutching Bill's forearms as if they were his lifeline and did not protest when Mrs Weasley insisted they take him home right that minute. Harry didn't say anything when Bill and Ron hoisted him to his feet, half carrying him back inside. He didn't argue with anyone when they held out a Portkey for him to take and soon he felt a jerk behind his navel that whisked him away from Hogwarts and death and green flashing lights.


	11. Chapter 11

**Funeral**

Harry woke with a start and a scream dying in his throat. His heart was pounding and he was breathing heavily, sweat pouring off his skin like he'd just run a marathon. The sun was about to break over the horizon and it reflected off the bright orange walls of Ron's room, casting a warm glow over the empty bed on the other side of the room. Just like all the other times Harry had woken that night Bill was sitting next to his bed. Wordlessly Harry took the glass Bill offered him, gulping down a mouthful of the fresh water before sinking back onto his pillow and covering his eyes with one arm. He felt Bill reach out and lay his hand on his shoulder and Harry reached a hand up to Bill's and grasped it, his heart still pounding from the ghastly nightmare.

Harry heard the door creak open and soft footsteps cross the carpet. There was a clunk as a beaker was placed on the windowsill.

"Your muzzer, she has finished ze potion," he heard Fleur whisper and then the sound of her kissing Bill softly. "Try and get 'im to drink eet. We 'ave 'eard 'ow often 'e is waking up." Her footsteps receded and the door shut behind her with a soft click.

"Harry," said Bill, "talk to me." Harry had not said a word to anyone since arriving at the Burrow the night before. The wards had held well during the time the Weasleys had been away and apart from a thick layer of dust, all was in order, including the expulsion of the ghoul from Ron's room. Ron and Bill had led Harry up the stairs and into a pair of pyjamas and then into bed in Ron's room but Harry had been unable to sleep for longer than an hour without being woken by nightmares filled with red glowing eyes and flashes of green light, he was falling and dying over and over again. And when the light wasn't coming towards him he watched as one by one those he loved fell to the green flashes. It was like going to sleep and running into one giant Boggart. Mrs Weasley had started making a Dreamless Sleep potion after Harry woke the fourth time a little after midnight.

"I'm worried about you," Bill tried again. "Please, talk to me." Harry removed the arm from across his face and looked up at Bill.

"I'm terrified," he whispered, turning away to look at the wall, "all the time; well not every single minute but a lot. I was terrified of George. He hexed me and I was afraid of him after that. When I ran into the business end of Charlie's wand that day in the Entrance Hall I started to panic and then I started seeing green lights. Every time I close my eyes to sleep I see green flashes of light and Voldemort's eyes. It's been getting worse. Sometimes when people talk about the war I've been getting the shakes or reliving the times when I've seen someone killed. Reliving the times Voldemort tried to kill me. I panicked when I saw the green sparklers. I couldn't help it." Harry turned back to Bill. "I think I'm going mad."

"You're not going mad, Harry. It's just panic attacks. A normal reaction to everything you've been through I'd say," Bill paused. "It happened to a mate of mine in Egypt. He got trapped in a tomb once when things went a bit wrong and he was dead scared of small spaces after that; couldn't go into tombs. The thought made him hyperventilate.

"I've been watching you the past couple of days. You hide it well but I could see you shaking and your eyes glazing in panic, I just couldn't figure out what was making you panic. And you go about telling everyone you are fine. They believe you when you say that, you know. Except Hermione I think she was figuring it out too. Don't cover it up, let us help. If you're feeling panicky tell us, we can help. Promise me, Harry." Bill's eyes were full of concern and they pleaded with Harry to trust him.

"But who's going to be here?" Harry asked. "You all live or work someplace else. And I can't expect your mum and Ginny to deal with me if I am going to panic about every little thing every five minutes." Harry's breathing quickened as he continued. "I don't know what's going to happen and everybody has got their lives to go back to but I don't have any place to be and I can't even go five minutes talking without-" He broke off panting, gasping, trying to catch his breath. Bill gripped his shoulders and told him to breathe.

"No one's going anywhere right now," he said firmly. "You have a place to be – here. We are all here and we are all staying together as a family. We need each other right now and that includes you, kid." Bill pulled Harry into a rough hug before pushing him back onto the pillow and drawing his covers up. "Now, you are going to drink this potion and get some proper sleep." Harry choked the potion down with Bill smoothing a hand through his hair as tenderly as if he were Mrs Weasley.

" 'Mnot a kid," mumbled Harry sleepily, " 'm nearly eighteen, 'm all grown'p." Harry's breathing evened out and he drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

************************

The sun was streaming through the window when Harry woke again. The clock said it was almost midday but he could smell one of Mrs Weasley's delicious breakfasts wafting up to the little room beneath the attic. Harry was hungry. He crawled out of bed and padded his way downstairs. The Weasleys and Hermione were sitting around the kitchen table eating and talking quietly. Ron looked up from his enormous plate of sausages and bacon to spear a kipper from the middle of the table and saw Harry standing there.

"Morning Harry!" he cried. Several heads whipped around and Ginny scrambled from her chair and ran to pull him into a hug which Harry returned enthusiastically.

"Come and have some breakfast before Ron eats it all," she said pulling him over to sit into the chair between her and Bill.

"It's a bit late for breakfast, isn't it?" Harry asked as she and Mrs Weasley began piling his plate high.

"Yes, well we only just got up, we didn't get much sleep last night," Mr Weasley said kindly. Harry looked down at his hands.

"Sorry," he mumbled. He felt Bill's hand on his arm and looked up at the older man.

"It's okay, Harry, remember what I said," Bill said. Ron cocked his head to one side.

"What did you say?" he demanded. Bill resumed eating, swallowing a bite of toast before answering.

"He's family," said Bill simply. After a pause he added, "Awfully polite chap though. Say Harry; reckon you could teach that to Ron?" Ron glowered and Charlie sniggered.

"Well as I've been unable to influence Ron, or indeed any of you in that direction all these years, I don't like his chances," Percy said as he primly cut his sausages into small bite sized pieces.

"Au contraire Percy old chap!" exclaimed George. "I've learnt a lot from you and your example has influenced me no end, my lad!" Percy shot him an icy look.

"I'm polite," Charlie protested. "Have to be when trying to impress the ladies." He puffed his chest out. Fleur scoffed.

"Eet ees not _politeness_ that ees attractive to women!"

"Really?" said George, leaning forward. "What's the secret then?"

"Charm, charisma, joie de vivre," winked Bill. "That and a generous p-"

"William Arthur!" hissed his mother. Charlie sniggered and Fleur blushed.

"-urse," finished Bill innocently.

"Being polite has always worked with Penelope," Percy said, his nose in the air. Harry suppressed a snort with great difficulty as he saw Charlie, George and Ron all seize that piece of information.

"Penelope, huh? How about you tell us about _Penelope_, Perce?" said George with an evil gleam in his eye. Ron began singing a rather childish ditty about love and marriage under his breath that Harry once thought he'd heard a version of on a television show that Dudley was particularly fond of.

"Yes," said Charlie, "have you shown her your generous purse yet?" Percy looked at Charlie with disdain.

"Our relationship is suitably proper according to those who are not yet married," he said primly.

"They're not talking about money, are they?" Ginny said under her breath to Hermione as both girls giggled uncontrollably. Mrs Weasley shot a disapproving look at Bill.

"So, it's not the size of your purse then, Bill? It's how generous you are about it?" asked George with a wink. Fleur went as red as any Weasley and Charlie went purple with the effort of trying not to laugh. Ron, who had obviously completely missed the double entendre, chose that moment to add his thoughts to the conversation.

"Well, if that's all it takes then Ginny's in luck because I've seen Harry's. It's sizable and he's generous to a fault." Harry and Ginny collectively sprayed their pumpkin juice clear across the table.

"Well, at least Ginny hasn't seen it yet," Charlie glared at Harry menacingly.

"Bollocks! Course she has!" scoffed Ron, his mother glared at him and Hermione muttered something about his appalling language. Harry began to choke on the bacon he just put in his mouth.

"She has not!" he wheezed.

"Yes I have Harry," said Ginny breezily. "Don't you remember?"

"It's a bit of a worry if a bloke can't remember that," muttered George, a scowl on his face.

"Right before I went to Hogwarts, we had a look down there," she said brightly her face gleaming with barely suppressed mischief. Harry just looked at her in horror. He could see Hermione behind her, a hand stuffed in her mouth to prevent her bursting into loud, uncontrollable laughter. Ron was nodding along, his mouth full of his tenth sausage and Bill, Charlie, Percy and George were looking at Harry in a way that made his blood run cold. Harry appealed to Hermione with his eyes.

"Well at least she's only seen it that once," Hermione said thoughtfully. "And you're the only one who has access so we can be sure it hasn't happened again. It's a pity I haven't had the chance to see it. I'd love to see your family jewels."

"You. Are. Not. Helping," Harry ground out but Bill now shook with silent laughter and George and Charlie stared at Hermione with unconcealed glee. Percy looked as though he was trying to disapprove. Ron swallowed the last of his breakfast.

"Oh give it up Harry, we're all big enough to deal with the size of it, we're all grownups here," he said. "You've probably got some really brilliant family jewels stashed in there." Harry simply groaned and, pushing his plate to one side, put his forehead down and began banging his head lightly on the tabletop.

"Oh, I'd like to see those!" said Ginny, collapsing into uncontrollable giggles, Hermione following suit.

"So it's okay with you if Harry shows Ginny his family jewels, Ron?" asked Bill, his eyes now twinkling with unconcealed mirth.

"Really Bill –" began Mrs Weasley. But Ron interrupted her.

"Sure," he said, shrugging. "He should probably wait a while before he gives her any though. They've not been going out for long. I mean, I used to have a problem with his generosity but I like to think I've matured a bit since then." That was enough to make Charlie and George lose control completely and they began howling with laughter. Ron looked at them as if they were daft before he turned to Harry, concern on his face.

"Say Harry, you think the goblins will let you back in to it, after the, er, mess we made of Gringotts?"

"Oh, you _are_ talking about my vault," said Harry weakly.

"Yeah, what did you think I was talking about? Where else would your family jewels be – oh," Ron went scarlet.

"And there it is," said George in an undertone that was quite clearly meant to be heard.

"That's enough, boys," said Mr Weasley failing completely to hide his mirth despite Mrs Weasely's glare. "Let's organise what we have to do today. Who's going to Muriel's to collect our things and who's going to help your mother straighten things up around here?"

******************

Mrs Weasley soon had Fleur, Ginny and Hermione helping her dust, change bed linens and tidy the kitchen. She packed Ron and Harry off to the chicken shed to clean it out for when Percy and Charlie brought the chickens back from Muriel's. Bill apparated to Shell Cottage to collect some things for himself and Fleur and Mr Weasley and George headed back to Hogwarts to bring Fred home. The funeral would be the day after tomorrow and the sobering thought considerably dampened the enthusiasm anyone felt for the various tasks they were allocated.

Harry himself was completely distracted by thoughts of other funerals and quickly excused himself to send a letter to Andromeda. First he quickly dashed one off to Kingsley asking for the details of Snape's funeral. He had then finished writing a letter, asking as delicately as he'd been able, about funeral arrangements for Tonks and Remus, when he realised he had no owl to send them anyway. He didn't know if Remus had anything organised for his funeral arrangements but he knew he didn't want Andromeda to have to arrange it alone.

Harry traipsed down the stairs mulling over his owl problem when he heard Charlie and Percy in the kitchen. There was a great thump and a clang before something scraped across the floor.

"This bird is a menace!" he heard Charlie say. "It's safer to be around dragons!"

"I expect Muriel kept him locked up the last few days," replied Percy. "Poor little thing needs some exercise. Where's Ron? He should look after his owl now he's back."

'_Pigwidgeon_,' thought Harry, and he raced into the kitchen to see Percy holding, in one hand, a small cage with a tiny puffball in it, that was obviously Ginny's pygmy puff, and a spitting hissing covered carrier basket, that was clearly Crookshanks, in the other. Charlie was struggling with three cages of chickens, several trunks and Pig, fluttering about madly in his cage.

"Here, let me take Pig," said Harry. "I've got letters for him." Charlie handed the bird over gratefully and Harry made his way up to Ron's room to stow the cage and release Pig with his letters. He bumped into Ginny on the third landing.

"Oh, are Charlie and Percy back?"

"Yeah they've got Arnold and the trunks in the kitchen," Harry answered. He made no move to continue up the staircase though, he simply looked at Ginny. She returned his gaze, her eyes flickering downwards briefly as she licked her lips. As Harry stood on the staircase he realised that they hadn't actually been alone in quite some time and he took a step towards her. Pig fluttered in his cage much like Harry's heart was fluttering against his ribcage. He reached out and captured her hand in his own, pulling her towards him.

Ginny looked up at him, her lips slightly parted and Harry felt his pulse quicken. And then his lips were on hers and Pig was unceremoniously dumped on a step so Harry could bury one hand in her hair while the other found the small of her back, pressing her closer to him. He felt her small hands slide up his shoulders and around the back of his neck before she slid one down his spine to rest lightly on his left hip as he opened his mouth, his tongue seeking entrance to hers.

The landing was small and a little cramped, it didn't take much for Harry to find himself pressed against the wall, one small hand creeping up his chest and the other running softly through his hair while his own hands found the gap between Ginny's T shirt and shorts, tracing small circles on her bare skin. Then Harry heard heavy footfalls on the steps below and he pulled away from her, pulling her shirt back down and kissing her lightly on the nose.

"Come on," he whispered, grabbing Ginny's hand in one of his own and Pig's cage in the other, swiftly dragging them both upstairs to Ron's room where he quickly tied his letter to Pig's leg and opened the window for the tiny owl to speed off before turning back to Ginny whose lips were still swollen and her face flushed from the heady kiss they had shared on the landing.

"You're beautiful," he said softly as he reached out a hand to caress her cheek. His other arm snaked out to pull her close to him. "I love you." He murmured against her lips as he covered her mouth with his own.

Harry had no idea how long they stood there, locked in that embrace, sharing a kiss that made his spine tingle and all his worries fade away. He was, however, sorry that it had to come to end when Ron burst in, the door slamming open with a resounding crash.

"Don't _do_ that in my room," Ron groaned.

"Then stop snogging Hermione in mine!" Ginny retorted loudly. "It wasn't a pretty sight this morning let me tell you!"

"Oh and you think what I just saw paints a picture I want to see?"

"Ronald! Ginevra!" Mrs Weasley's voice was not at all reassuring and both Weasleys blanched. "Stop that bickering and get yourselves down here now! And find Harry!" The three of them made straight for the stairs Ron muttering that he'd found Harry alright. As Ron clattered loudly down the stairs, Harry on his heels, Ginny tugged on Harry's hand, stopping his descent. He turned enquiringly to her to find her looking at him tenderly.

"I love you too," she whispered. Harry closed the gap between them swiftly as he pressed his lips to hers once more, the kiss sweet and tender until it was broken by Ron's voice drifting back to them.

"Oi! Don't do it on my landing either!"

The three of them clattered down the stairs and found a trembling Mrs Weasley in the kitchen.

"Your father firecalled," she murmured, staring into the fireplace. "George has had some sort of breakdown. They are going to be a while longer. Madam Pomfrey is still watching him." Suddenly she stood up and headed for the living room. Ron jumped out of the doorway as she headed through it determinedly.

"Mum-"

"Not now Ronald," his mother cut him off briskly. She picked up a feather duster that was lying on one of the bookshelves. "I need to clean up so that we have somewhere nice to put … to put Fred." She began to dust frantically and rather than cleaning effectively she created clouds of dust. Ginny pulled Ron aside and spoke to him in a whisper.

"What is she doing?" Ginny asked. "She never dusts with a duster, she uses her wand, the duster is for underage serfs like me!"

"I dunno, Ginny," shrugged Ron. "But yeah it is a bit odd." The two of them and Harry watched as Mrs Weasley continued to chatter incessantly and flick dust around the room.

"I do hope George is going to be all right," she said. "Arthur didn't tell me what exactly was wrong with him. Of course I'm not sure he knew, but he could have asked Madam Pomfrey. I hope it's not serious. Do you think it will be serious Ronald?" She turned on him so quickly that Ron actually took a step backwards.

"I dunno, Mum," he said and opened his mouth to say more but was cut off.

"Charlie and Percy went back to Muriel's," she burst out. "They have to clean up the room Fr-Fred and George were using. Those boys left a cauldron running! Just wait until I …"

Mrs Weasley began to wave the duster more erratically. Ginny ran out of the room mumbling something about getting Fleur. Ron and Harry stood helplessly in the sitting room doorway watching Mrs Weasley wield her duster fiercely.

"Mum?" started Ron tentatively. Mrs Weasley shook violently and half the pictures on the mantelpiece that she was dusting fell with a crash to the floor. Mrs Weasley stood, staring at the pictures, their glass faces lying cracked on the floor, a picture of two identical cherubic red headed babies laughing up at her. She sank to her knees amidst the shattered glass, reaching out to pick up the picture of the laughing babies.

The glass hanging from the frame sliced into her skin, but she didn't seem to notice and the blood dripped from her hand sinking into the threadbare carpet, mingling with the swirls and loops already woven into the faded pattern. Ron crossed the floor in two short strides, kneeling with his mother in the glass fragments.

"I'll – I'll get something for that cut," Harry stammered. He hurried into the kitchen and found Ginny, Fleur and Hermione quickly making a pot of tea.

"Bandages," he blurted at Ginny. "Your mum cut herself." Ginny blanched and hurried to collect a box from a shelf before hurrying into the sitting room with Hermione on her heels.

"I wish Beel would 'urry up and come back," Fleur said wistfully, staring at the fireplace as if she could make him magically Floo in.

"Why don't you take that in to the living room? I'll firecall him, let him know Mum needs him," said Harry. Fleur nodded, gathering the tea things, and stepped quietly into the living room. Harry swiftly knelt at the hearth and stuck his head in.

"Bill! You've got to come home!" he called frantically. Harry could hear his footsteps hurrying in from the other room.

"What's wrong Harry?"

"Your mum," said Harry. "She's … sort of had a turn."

Bill swore and promised he'd be only a few minutes longer. Harry withdrew his head from the fireplace and went back to the living room where he found Ron and his mother still kneeling in the ruins of the photograph frames while Hermione and Fleur tried to convince Mrs Weasley to come and sit where they could clean and bandage her cut. Ginny was standing shaking and watching her mother cry silently, Mrs Weasley's tears mingling with the blood still dripping to the floor. His heart breaking, Harry enveloped Ginny in a hug as Ron managed to coax his mother to her feet, still clutching the broken picture frame that held a picture of laughing twin babies. By the time Bill came racing into the room Hermione had repaired the picture frames and was putting them back on the mantelpiece, Fleur had cleaned and bandaged the cut and Ron had removed all the shards of glass from the picture frame Mrs Weasley still clung to.

Mrs Weasley was now sitting next to Ron on the couch staring at the picture, tears still slipping slowly down her cheeks and the front of Harry's shirt was wet with Ginny's tears. Bill knelt in front of his mother, putting a hand over hers.

"Mum?" he whispered. Mrs Weasley did not look up.

"I need your father," she said.

"I'll go," said Ron. "I'll send dad back. I'll bring George and F-Fred home." Mrs Weasley patted his knee.

"You're a good boy, Ronald," she said softly. Ron got up and Hermione went to follow him but Ron shook his head.

"Please," he said, "please stay with them." He indicated Fleur standing helplessly next to the tea service, Ginny sobbing in Harry's arms and Bill still kneeling motionless in front of their mother who had not stopped staring at the picture of Fred and George as babies. Harry met Hermione's eyes over the top of Ginny's head and he knew that they were both aware that someone needed to hold things together right now, and it wasn't going to be a Weasley.

Hermione gave Ron a swift hug and kissed his cheek as he left to go to Hogwarts and then began to straighten out the living room, pushing Fleur into a chair and handing out cups of tea. The crash of the kitchen door as it opened shattered the stillness of the now sparkling living room where Mrs Weasley still stared, motionless, at the laughing babies and Ginny was sniffing away the last of her tears as Harry stroked her hair. Mr Weasley soon came rushing in looking extremely haggard and gathered his wife in his arms as she unleashed a fresh wave of tears. This seemed to set Ginny off again who flew at her parents and they gathered her in, Mr Weasley rocking both of them as his own tears dripped down the end of his nose, reminding Harry painfully of Ron at Dumbledore's funeral a year previously.

Hermione looked helplessly at Harry as Bill simply moved to Fleur, now that his vigil over his mother was no longer necessary and Harry watched as he laid his head in his wife's lap seeking her comfort. A crash and an oath from the kitchen startled Harry out of his reverie and he and Hermione dashed into the kitchen to see Percy and Charlie in a heap on the floor having just come through the Floo – a cloud of ash and dust rising from their robes.

"You prat! Why on earth would you jump in before I'd cleared out?" Charlie said angrily. "I reckon you've broken my foot with your great hefty feet!"

"Well it isn't my fault Muriel went spare when we couldn't stop that swamp box! She practically shoved me on top of you, screaming at me," Percy bellowed back. "Now move out of the way she's going to shove everything else through any minute do you want to be in the way when she manages it?" They were too late. An avalanche of WWW products tumbled out of the kitchen fireplace just as Bill and Mr Weasley burst in the door. They stumbled into Harry and sent him careening into the kitchen table. Charlie and Percy lay buried under boxes of Skiving Snackboxes, WonderWitch products and Patented Daydream Charms and the ash from the fireplace rose ever higher in the chaos.

It seemed to Harry that things couldn't get any worse when he saw a silver panther drop gracefully through the kitchen ceiling and perch on the teetering pile of boxes to say, in Kingsley's voice,

"_Arthur, I sent your boys home in a Ministry car. They'll be there any minute."_ The last time Harry had seen Kingsley's Patronus at The Burrow it signaled a Death Eater attack and between being winded after crashing into the Weasley's kitchen table and fighting down a surge of panic at the memory of the attack Harry's composure was lost. He sank to the kitchen floor gasping desperately for air just as the kitchen door swung open to reveal Ron silhouetted against the afternoon light.

The panther dissipated and Percy and Charlie scrambled to their feet as one final box came flying through the kitchen fireplace, hitting the opposite wall with a resounding splat and burst open splattering the kitchen's occupants with its contents and rapidly filling the kitchen with an oozing green swamp.

"Oh great," muttered Percy. "We couldn't fix the one in Muriel's second best bedroom and now there's one in mum's kitchen!"

"Well, you had to go and have a poke about in the boxes didn't you!" spat Charlie. "I bet she hurled that one through on purpose!" Harry was still trying to calm his racing heart and regulate his breathing but Bill saw his battle and was by Harry's side in one huge step, helping him focus and breathe while the swamp slowly oozed over the sink and into the scullery.

"Bloody hell!" exclaimed Ron.

"Language, Ronald!" scolded Hermione.

"How are we going to fix this before mum finds it?" hissed Percy.

"Finds what?" asked Mrs Weasley who was looking decidedly more composed, although her eyes were red rimmed, now standing in the doorway. "What's wrong with Harry?" Harry felt six pairs of eyes swing towards him as he fought down another wave of fear and began to control his breathing.

"Kingsley's Patronus," muttered Bill. "He's alright, it was a short attack." Harry closed his eyes, obviously they all knew about his panic attacks because no one asked for clarification. Suddenly Harry heard a snort of laughter coming from the direction of the back door and opened his eyes to find George, looking somewhat pale, doubled over with mirth.

"George?" asked Mr Weasley hesitantly, "are you alright?" George straightened up.

"Yeah, Dad, I am," he replied. "Seeing Perce and Charlie covered in soot and green ooze it's just like old times. You guys sure know how to cheer a bloke up."

A blob of green slime hung precariously from Percy's nose as he straightened up and puffed out his chest as if personally responsible for George's cheery façade. The blob of green slime fell to the floor and made a sucking sound on the floor as it took root and began to transform the hearth into a swamp. The sight of a soot covered Percy standing officiously in front of the kitchen fireplace, up to his ankles in a swamp, with bits of green slime still clinging to his hair and coating his glasses was so absurdly funny that soon the occupants of the kitchen were all laughing.

Ginny and Fleur came in to see what was causing the laughter and Ginny found it particularly funny.

"Oh, if Fred could see you now," she wheezed. "He once told me that nothing would give him greater pleasure than to swamp you, Percy."

"Yes, no doubt," said Percy drily. "He obviously waited for that opportunity. We are treated to this spectacle, courtesy of Fred, who wrote in big letters on a box, _'Dear Percy, Don't open this box, Love Fred'_. I, of course, am apparently unable to resist such a message." Percy appeared to be looking disdainfully at himself, if that was at all possible, as he attempted to wipe his hands on his filthy robes.

"Well, I'll be," said George wonderingly. "He won the bet. Ten Galleons I said you'd ignore that message if you ever came across it."

"Eet would appear, Percy, as eef you are Fred's last prank, non?" giggled Fleur.

"Couldn't happen to a better bloke, old chap!" cried George. Percy just shook his head muttering that mashed parsnips were preferable.

"Yes, well, we can't eat dinner in a swamp," Mrs Weasley fussed. "George, dear do you think you could possibly get rid of this, er, product?"

The mood in The Burrow lifted and although bringing Fred home and situating his lifeless body in the living room was not without tears and sadness it felt, to Harry, like certain ghosts had been purged along with the tears that had been shed that afternoon and that rather than Fred's spectre hanging over them like a dark cloud his memory enveloped them like a familiar blanket, beginning to chase the sorrow out of the dark corners of their souls that they had all tried to cover up and hide.

*********************

The next day was a solemn affair. George spent the day in his room while his father and brothers prepared the site chosen for Fred's grave near a grove of trees that bordered the garden. Harry had spent another restless night dodging nightmares. Seeing his pale face Mrs Weasley had tucked him into a cozy chair near the kitchen hearth and plied him with hot drinks and soup and Harry was simply too tired to protest. She fussed over him, keeping herself busy as she tucked a blanket around his shoulders and felt his forehead. Harry reflected that perhaps Professor McGonagall's admonition to let Molly Weasley mother him had not been for himself, but for her. He let himself be comforted and mothered and found that his nightmares were a little less that night.

The day of Fred's funeral dawned clear and cloudless. George emerged from his room, resplendent in flamboyant robes of bright purple which clashed splendidly with his hair. His mother looked at him sideways all through breakfast but chose not to say anything at all. The rest of The Burrow's occupants were attired more sedately in stiff dress robes in muted colours. As they finished the meal Ron turned to Harry,

"I don't know how I am going stick it out in these robes all day," he muttered, pulling at his collar.

"Then why are you wearing them, Ron?" George asked pointedly. Ron stammered and stumbled over a hopelessly garbled explanation about propriety and decorum and fear of his mother.

"And you think that Fred possessed either propriety or decorum?" George enquired, and added in an undertone, "I'll give you healthy fear of the matriarch." Ron considered this for a moment while George continued.

"Remember what Fred said at Bill's wedding?" Ron shook his head. "He said that when he got married he wouldn't be bothering with all the nonsense and we could all wear what we liked. I know he won't be getting married but…" George trailed off, staring at the fireplace where Harry cold see a small patch of swamp still hidden behind the kindling box that Mrs Weasley clearly hadn't noticed.

"Right, er, well, I'll be right back," Ron said in a rush and bolted out of the kitchen, thundering up the stairs. He emerged a few moments later in a pair of Muggle jeans, his trainers and a blindingly orange T shirt with a cannonball whizzing across the back. George smiled at him and winked. Mrs Weasley sighed, but there was the ghost of a smile on her face.

When the Weasley family gathered out in the yard to greet those who had come to pay their respects and give their condolences they were an eclectic group. Fleur and Hermione had donned sun dresses of fuchsia and cerulean blue and Ginny was wearing a floaty green skirt and a summer blouse. Charlie wore a bright red shirt with a fire breathing dragon roaring on the back and Bill, an extra large fang in his ear, had on his favourite dragonhide jacket, Mr Weasley was in his best Muggle tweed suit and Mrs Weasley was wearing the sparkly midnight blue witches' hat that Fred and George had given her for Christmas in Harry's sixth year. Percy was still wearing his navy blue dress robes.

Harry had changed into comfortable jeans and a T shirt and was hanging back near the house as he watched people arrive. The first person to arrive had been a rather giggly witch who had headed straight for him, fawning over him rather embarrassingly and as such he now chose not to be immediately visible to the people who were streaming in The Burrow's gate. Harry soon spotted a large group of his schoolmates surrounding Ron and George near one of the hedges and made his way over. Ron hadn't left George's side all day and they had now been joined by Lee Jordan attired in rather garish robes of salmon pink. The three of them clashed magnificently.

"All right, Harry?" asked Neville as he spotted Harry approaching. Harry shrugged. "I mean you left pretty suddenly the other night and – "

"I'm fine Neville," Harry cut him off abruptly and the other boy swallowed whatever he had been about to say and nodded. Luna floated over to them, clad in voluminous yellow robes, dragging Dean Thomas by the hand.

"Hello, Harry," she said dreamily. "Have you gotten rid of the Wrackspurts and Nargles yet?"

"Er-" began Harry, quite used to her odd outbursts, but speechless all the same.

"I've never seen an attack quite so bad as that before, I expect it was the effect of them combined. Are you quite sure you are all right now?" Luna pressed.

"I'm fine, thank you, Luna," Harry managed to say before he was suddenly engulfed by a pair of arms swathed in massive black robes, an enormous black feather swung in his face, tickling his nose mercilessly. He was ruthlessly pushed away by the arms and inspected fiercely by none other than Auntie Muriel. Harry caught Ginny's eye over Muriel's shoulder and Ginny was looking at him apologetically and mouthing sorry at him.

"So, Ronald, you weren't boasting at all were you. Seems you do know him," she eyed Harry critically. "Harry Potter, my you are quite a bit skinnier than I thought you'd be. Hmmm your eyesight's obviously not much to write home about, dreadfully thick lenses there." Harry tried desperately to keep a straight face as he caught Ginny collapsing with laughter, Ron turning puce with the effort of holding in his hilarity and Neville staring agog at the back of Auntie Muriel's head.

"Not to worry!" Muriel boomed as she pulled him back into a suffocating hug and patting him forcefully on the back. "Obviously one can overlook these flaws, you dear, dear boy."

Muriel burst into loud tears, squeezing Harry so tight that he thought he was going to pass out. Between sobs Muriel endlessly pontificated about the incomparable service Harry had done the wizarding world and that he was to be esteemed among all men for his outstanding courage. She eventually released him before turning to George and patting him forcefully on the head muttering about his ears and then she rounded on Ginny who backed away.

"Ginevra, have you found yourself a beau yet? I can recommend several decent young men that you can correspond with during your final year of education, if you insist on returning of course," said Muriel loudly, catching the attention of Ginny's parents. "You'll have several suitors lined up for your parents to choose from when you finish then. Wouldn't do to leave you on the shelf!" Ginny rolled her eyes discreetly and Mr Weasley and Mrs Weasley hurried over.

"Ah, Muriel, wonderful to see you, wonderful," began Mr Weasley and Muriel turned to him, looking him up and down.

"Arthur," she barked, "one does not say it is wonderful to see one at a _funeral_. Have you selected any beaux for Ginevra yet? There's a rather wonderful young man I was sorry I didn't get to introduce her to before she ran off with her brothers a couple of days ago, perhaps I could bring him around, you know, get things started." She winked conspiratorially at Mr Weasley.

"That's very sweet of you, Auntie Muriel," said Mrs Weasley breathlessly. "We do, er, that is to say, ah, Ginny is, well-"

"What mum means to say," said George, "is that young Ginny here is currently being, ah, courted, yes courted, by a young man of um exceptional breeding and it is going to be entirely her choice if, well, she lets him, sort of, well that is to say…" George trailed off. The look he gave Ron and Harry seemed to be begging them to say something.

"He makes me sound like a stud animal," muttered Harry under his breath to Ron who snorted indelicately.

"It's fine, thank you, Auntie Muriel," said Ginny. "As George said just now, I do currently have a boyfriend."

"Yes, yes," Muriel waved her hand dismissively. "I suppose he's some ruffian of no account without name or family, or money for that matter. Boyfriends don't get you married though. Proper suitors chosen by your elders and betters are what you need. Molly, I do hope you are not encouraging this flight of fancy?"

"As a matter of fact, Muriel," Mrs Weasley said stiffly, "Arthur and I are quite pleased with _Ginevra's choice_ and she certainly doesn't need our interference in the affairs of her heart. Perhaps this conversation could be had at a more suitable time."

"No, no, let's continue," said George cheekily. "No better time like the present, would someone care to introduce Auntie Muriel here to young Ginevra's Romeo?"

"Oh, he's here is he?" Muriel peered at the assembled crowd which included, at the forefront, a salmon pink and dreadlocked Lee, a pale and trembling Neville and a rather scruffy looking Seamus Finnegan. "Well, which of you degenerates is it?" Harry glared at George before shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Me," he said quietly. Auntie Muriel's resulting astonishment rendered her speechless, and possibly gasping for air. Mr and Mrs Weasley were able to pull her away and sit her down, ready to begin proceedings.

"Priceless, Harry, priceless," said George thumping Harry on the back. "Come on, let's get this party started."

People were slowly seating themselves at the graveside as George headed into the house, followed by his brothers. Harry went over to Ginny as the group surrounding them went to take their seats.

"How are you doing?" he asked her softly as he put his arms around her waist, pulling her towards him.

"I'm okay," she answered. "I'm sorry about Auntie Muriel. She sort of spotted you and swept over here like a giant vulture before I could stop her." Harry smiled at her as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"That's okay, I have to get used to people wanting a piece of me," said Harry. "But I promise that there's always one piece of me that's only for you; this piece here." And Harry put her hand over his heart as he bent to kiss her lightly.

"You'd better get inside, they'll be waiting for you," said Ginny, smiling and just a little flushed. Harry looked at her, confused.

"No, we need to go and sit down so they can start," he said.

"Oh, goodness, no one told you?"

"Told me what?"

"Oh Merlin," Ginny seemed flustered. She seemed to cast her eyes wildly about as if looking for a way to avoid what she was about to say. Finally she forced it out. "The coffin, it needs six pallbearers." Harry paled.

"Oh."

"You're supposed to be one of them; didn't any of those idiots say anything?" Harry shook his head. At that moment Ron stuck his head out of The Burrow's back door.

"Oi! Potter!" he yelled. Ginny gave him a little push in the direction of the house and Harry slowly walked over to Ron.

"What are you waiting for?" Ron demanded.

"Someone to tell me I was supposed to be in there," Harry shot back.

"Weren't you listening last night when dad said 'you boys, his brothers, will be the pallbearers'?" Ron grabbed Harry by one arm and hauled him through the house and into the living room where four red headed men were gathered around Fred's open coffin.

"I didn't know that meant _me_," whispered Harry.

"You're daft," grumbled Ron. Both of them stopped to watch as George reached out and placed something in the coffin that most closely resembled a piece of string and Harry realised it was an Extendable Ear. George sighed heavily and a lone tear dripped down his face and into the coffin.

"Goodbye, Fred," he whispered. "I promise that I will keep getting up to no good." And George lowered the lid of the coffin, wiping his face with the back of his hand and turned to face his brothers. "Let's go then."

Harry was sure that none of their faces were dry as they carried Fred slowly up the aisle between the chairs set out facing the grave. When they arrived at the front the tufty haired little man again stood waiting to begin and Bill levitated the coffin above the freshly dug grave. It hung there as if suspended on invisible threads as they took seats next to Mr and Mrs Weasley and Ginny in the front row. As Harry sat next to her, Ginny turned to him, tears spilled down her cheeks and Harry simply gathered her into his arms. Harry held her while she cried; their tears mingled as the little tufty haired man in stiff black robes began to address the assembled crowd.

Harry hadn't been to many funerals but he was fairly certain that most funerals were not like Fred's. He was fairly certain that at most funerals the somber officiator dressed in black was not interrupted by a loud red head proclaiming that none of all those fancy words meant anything. He was fairly certain that most funerals did not involve an emotional young man dressed in bright purple recounting all the finest exploits of the one whose life they were honouring and celebrating that day. He was fairly certain that most funerals did not involve playing loud Muggle rock music as the coffin was lowered either.

Harry felt he rather preferred a funeral that was not like most others were.

Later that day, after all the mourners had gone home and the family sat limply inside while Hermione and Mr and Mrs Diggory cleaned up the kitchen Harry slipped outside, looking for George who had not been seen in the last hour. Harry found him, kneeling in front of the fresh mound of earth under which Fred lay, tracing the letters on Fred's headstone with his fingers.

"It's not much is it, to show for a life," said George quietly. "Your name and your birth and death date." Harry knelt down beside George and looked at the white stone monument that had been placed at the head of Fred's grave.

FRED WEASLEY

1 April 1978 – 29 May 1998

Harry thought of the words he had inscribed on Dobby's headstone and the phrase that was on his parents'.

"You want to add something to it," he said quietly. "Something that tells you about Fred and what he did with his life." Harry remembered George's words as he'd closed the lid on the coffin and he drew his wand. In precise neat lettering he etched a final phrase on Fred's headstone.

_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_

_***_

Two days after Fred's funeral the Weasley's gathered at Godric's Hollow. Andromeda had replied to Harry with the news that Remus and Tonks had not made any sort of funeral arrangements and as she no longer had access to the Black family mausoleum and her husband had been hastily buried in a Muggle churchyard during the war Andromeda was actually entirely unsure what she was going to do. Nor was she sure she would be able to fund it. Harry had Flooed over straight away and convinced Andromeda to let him take care of it. She had been very understanding about Harry's desire to bury Remus with his own parents and agreed immediately that her daughter also be laid to rest there.

Harry discovered that he was able to still access his vault (which gave Charlie and George plenty of ammunition to tease Ron, asking him if he'd like to go and have a look at Harry's family jewels). Harry was entirely unwilling to enter Diagon Alley and be seen in public only one week after the Battle of Hogwarts and not all that keen on trying to go into Gringotts given that the last time he was there he stole their dragon. The benefit of sending Bill was made clear when he returned and revealed he and Fleur were both still gainfully employed. Harry left the funeral service arrangements to Andromeda and arranged payment for the graves, headstones and caskets. It was a lot to do in one day but his name made it very easy indeed.

Kingsley sent Harry back a short note saying that unless a relative claimed Snape's body it would be up to the Ministry to arrange his burial. There was a month in which his relatives could claim him, after that it was up to the Ministry. Kinglsey also ensured that they were concealed from the press during Remus and Tonks's funeral and sent Ministry cars with dark windows for the day. A few well placed Confundus charms and a couple of burly Aurors ensured safe passage into the graveyard where a tall, thin wizard that Harry had never seen before conducted a short service. A light breeze ruffled the trees as Harry and the Weasley brothers carried first Tonks, and then Remus to the new graves that had been dug next to Lily and James. At first Harry stared unseeing as the tall, thin man began to talk but then his eyes drifted towards his parents' headstone and he read the words inscribed there over and over. Through the previous two days and the whole process of arranging the funerals and arriving at Godric's Hollow, Harry kept up an emotionless mask, shoving his feelings deep inside, refusing to feel anything. He arranged things mechanically, ate without tasting and it was only in his dreams that he felt anything at all. In the mornings he put his mask back on and wore it without cracking. Now that he was finally standing, for only the second time, in front of his parents' graves, listening to the accolades for two more lives sacrificed for the love of a baby son, the mask slipped.

Knowing the events that had occurred the last time she and Harry had ventured here alone, Hermione had kept very close to Harry. As Harry's tears began to fall Hermione reached out and grabbed the hand that wasn't encased in Ginny's, holding onto it until the tall, thin man had finished talking and the caskets were being lowered. Following the service workers arrived to fill the graves and erect the headstones. Not able to bear watching, but wanting to see the headstones in place Harry contemplated Teddy for a moment, who was cradled in Ginny's arms, the baby happy and blissfully unaware of how sad this day made everyone else.

"It's so different seeing this place in the daylight and not covered in snow," he heard Hermione say to Ginny.

"When exactly were you here?" asked Ginny.

"Christmas Eve," replied Hermione. "It was beautiful in its own way then but it looks so much different now."

"Have you ever been here, Ginny?" Harry suddenly asked, turning towards them. Ginny shook her head and a slight blush rose on her cheeks.

"Wanted to though, didn't you squirt?" interrupted Charlie.

"Don't call me squirt!" Ginny seethed and she shot Charlie a glare that Harry knew had nothing to do with being called squirt. Harry had an idea why she blushed.

"Come on!" he said suddenly. "Let's go see it!" Charlie and Ginny looked at him, puzzled.

"What do you want to see Harry, dear?" Mrs Weasley enquired.

"You'll see," Harry's eyes were alight with mischief and he grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her towards the gate. "Come on!"

"Harry! If you go out there, well … there's people out there and they'll see you!" Ginny exclaimed. Harry considered this for a moment.

"Well let's all go then, including those two," and he indicated the Aurors standing near the Ministry cars. Harry could see that they all thought he'd finally lost his marbles. He shook his head. "I'm perfectly fine. I want to show you something. It's cool. Come on!" The Weasleys and Andromeda followed him dubiously and the Aurors brought up the rear and Harry led them out of the gate and emerged into the square where the statue stood.

"Odd how those people are having a look at that big square thing there," said Ron. "What on earth is it anyway?" Harry grinned.

"Come and see," he said mysteriously. As they drew closer to the obelisk in the centre of the square Harry watched it transform into the statue and heard the gasps of those around him as it did so.

"It really is there," muttered Ginny and she wandered towards it in wonder. Harry held her hand and trailed after her. No one in the crowd noticed them at first. Ginny gazed up at the statue of Harry and his parents, Teddy blowing bubbles in her arms. Harry slipped an arm around her waist.

"Hey!" said Ron suddenly, loudly. "Harry, you look just like the statue standing there like that!" And suddenly the people in the square turned to look at them.

Harry spent two hours, shaking hands and talking to people. He didn't mind. The sunshine beat down pleasantly on the little square and birds and insects hovered and buzzed on the edges. After Harry thought he had spoken to every possible person in the little square he felt a tug on the edge of his robes. Looking down he saw a little boy with impossibly big blue eyes and curly blonde hair looking up at him solemnly. Harry smiled at the little boy who just stared back at him. Harry squatted down to the boy's level.

"Hello, my name's Harry," he said. "What's yours?" The little boy just looked at him before suddenly throwing his arms around Harry's neck. Harry put his arms around the little boy and hugged him back. When he pulled away the little boy smiled shyly at him and scampered off. Harry looked up from where he was still hunkered down near the ground to see Ginny looking at him, a soft smile on her face. Teddy had long since been passed back to his grandmother who had taken him home, so Harry went over to her, gathering her in a hug. Ginny sighed, putting her arms around him and snuggling into his chest. Harry stared after the little boy as he was swung onto his father's shoulders.

"I want to have kids some day," Harry said. He smiled down at Ginny as she looked up. "I think mine will have black hair like me, or maybe red. Red haired babies, I'd like that." And he leaned down and kissed her softly. Their kiss was interrupted by George and Ron.

"Er, things are finished up mate," Ron said, jerking a thumb towards the graveyard. "They've put the headstone up too."

"It's getting late," added George. "Those Aurors are looking mighty restless." Harry took Ginny's hand in his and the four of them made their way back into the churchyard where the rest of them were waiting.

"We'll give you a minute, Harry," said Mr Weasley. "Come on you lot, we'll wait in the cars." Harry kissed Ginny on the forehead and told her to go on, he wouldn't be long. A new gleaming white headstone sat next to that of his parents, Remus and Tonks's names engraved near the top, their birth and death dates underneath. A small man suddenly came scurrying over, carrying something wrapped in a cloth.

"Terribly sorry, Mr Potter, we about forgot this 'un," he said as he carefully placed the parcel on the ground and unwrapped it. Inside was a gleaming white stone. It was smaller than the other two but matched them perfectly.

"It's okay," said Harry. "Let me do it, you can go, and thank you." The man nodded and collecting his cloth walked away. Harry levitated the smaller stone into place between the two larger headstones, the writing on it clear in the sunlight streaming through the trees.

_In memory of_

_Sirius Black_

"_Padfoot"_

_1960 – 1996_

Harry heard a rustle and turned to see George standing nearby.

"I thought they should all be together, you know?" Harry said, his voice only a little strained. "The Marauders … well, the ones who weren't dirty rats anyway. I know he's not really there, I can't bury him, but they're together. They need to be together here too." George just nodded as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Harry as the sun slipped lower on the horizon.

"You're right, it's not much to show for a life, names, dates…" Harry trailed off. He noticed George get out his wand.

"You want to add something to it," George said. "Something that tells you something about them." Harry watched as George carefully etched two words on the memorial for Sirius, nestled between the graves of his two best friends. George slung his arm around Harry's shoulder as they walked back to the cars. Harry took one last look at the monuments, gleaming in the late afternoon sun and read the words that George had etched.

_Mischief Managed._


	12. Chapter 12

**Ceremony**

The next morning's Daily Prophet had Harry as front page news. His appearance at Godric's Hollow was apparently really big news and they even put a large poster insert of him in the edition. Harry just rolled his eyes but Charlie and George took the insert out and gave it to Ginny as she came downstairs for breakfast. Not realising what it was she sleepily opened it and then smiled dreamily at the moving picture of Harry taken the previous day as he smiled and spoke to people in the little square.

"Need some spellotape, Ginny?" asked George.

"I'll get some for you!" said Charlie rummaging in a drawer in one of the sideboards that lined the kitchen walls.

"I'll help you come and put it up on your bedroom wall, come on!" said George, grabbing her arm and pulling her in the direction of the stairs.

"What?" sputtered Ginny, "Hey, hang on!" She blushed fiercely as she pulled away from him, thrusting the poster back into his hands and stomped over to a chair at the kitchen table, reaching for some bacon.

"Why are you lot teasing her so much lately?" demanded Hermione, emerging from the rest of the Daily Prophet. George shrugged.

"She's our sister, that's our job," said Charlie.

"Hey, give it here," said Harry.

"What, you want to put it up above _your_ bed, Harry?"

"No, thickhead," Harry rolled his eyes at George. "Got a quill Hermione?" Hermione produced one from a pocket and George fetched a pot of ink from the same drawer as the spellotape. Moving the breakfast dishes, Harry spread the poster out on the table and began scribbling in the corner of it. He finished with a flourish, flapped it a little to dry the ink and then presented it to Ginny with a kiss on the cheek.

"What's this?" asked Ginny, more than a little suspiciously. Harry shrugged.

"Six years ago Fred told me you'd be wanting my autograph. Sorry it took so long." Ginny unfolded the sheet of newspaper and read, scrawled in Harry's writing _'Dearest Ginny, Remember that a piece of me is always yours. All my love, Harry Potter xxx'_. Ginny smiled.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"Anytime," Harry said softly. The look they shared was cut short abruptly by a head appearing in the fireplace.

"Ah, Harry," said Kingsley, "just the man I wanted to talk to."

"When's the ceremony?" interrupted Harry. Kingsley seemed floored by that question. Harry persisted.

"The Order of Merlin Ceremony, when is it scheduled?"

"In two weeks. The twentieth," answered Kingsley.

"Alright, I'll talk to reporters then," said Harry sounding so final that Kingsley opened and closed his mouth abruptly before nodding and pulling his head from the fireplace. Harry turned around to see the occupants of the kitchen staring at him.

"What?"

"You autographed your own picture?" Hermione was bemused.

"You're going to an Order of Merlin Ceremony, as the guest of honour?" Ginny was dubious.

"You're going to talk to reporters?" George was incredulous.

"Willingly?" Charlie was sceptical. Harry shrugged. He paused, looking thoughtful.

"I'm going to need new dress robes aren't I?"

"Who are you and what have you done with Harry Potter?" asked George. Harry simply grinned at George.

"I think he grew up."

**********************

In the end it was Mrs Weasley who went to Diagon Alley to get Harry some new dress robes. Ron warned him they would likely match his eyes but Harry didn't care. He spent the two weeks peacefully, at The Burrow having long sleep ins, playing chess with Ron, degnoming the garden or finding quiet moments alone with Ginny. Every few days he went over to see Andromeda and Teddy. Ginny usually went with him and they spent hours at a time taking care of the infant while Andromeda rested. Harry noticed that Teddy seemed to prefer turquoise hair but he would often change it to red when he saw Ginny. As he came up to three months old Teddy began smiling more and more and recognising both Harry and Ginny. Harry found himself looking forward to the visits more and more as Teddy became more responsive to him.

After a week or so Percy and Mr Weasley returned to work at the Ministry and Bill and Fleur went back to work at Gringotts. Charlie, unwilling to return to Romania just yet remained at The Burrow helping his mother with odd jobs during the day and preventing his father from destroying Muggle appliances in his shed at night. Hermione was trying to locate her parents using Muggle methods in nearby Ottery St Catchpole. The busy pursuits of most of The Burrow's occupants did nothing to hide the fact that George spent most of his time, alone, in his room.

Harry had thought George would be returning to his shop but he'd made no mention of it. Three days before the Order of Merlin Ceremony, when Harry and Ginny were visiting Teddy, Ron had a long talk with George and they must have come to some sort of understanding or arrangement because the next day George and Ron went to Diagon Alley soon after breakfast and returned just before lunch. They were both animated and Ron was busy drawing up some sort of plan on a large piece of parchment.

"What's that?" Harry asked, snatching a sandwich from the plate in the middle of the table.

"Plans for the shop," Ron said absently. "It's mostly okay but there's a bit of damage to the outside and a lot of the stock is wrecked. We have to rebuild some of it and make some more stock."

Ron scribbled furiously for moment before grabbing a sandwich and chewing thoughtfully.

"When are you going to re-open it?"

"We're aiming for August," Ron replied. "Want it open before Hogwarts goes back."

Harry didn't see a lot of Ron after that. He was either repairing the shop or helping George create the customary explosions from his bedroom.

Life neither went on nor stopped for Harry those two weeks. Despite his foray into the public arena at Godric's Hollow he was reluctant to go out in public again. Although he had no further panic attacks he couldn't be sure if that was because everything was so normal and predictable and they wouldn't have happened anyway or if he was getting over them. He had the odd nightmare but they seemed less intense somehow. Bill and Fleur returned to The Burrow each evening and told stories about the rebuilding of Diagon Alley.

"I saw Mr Ollivander this afternoon," Bill said one night. "He's going to re-open his shop. Just as well, that Pothart fellow was a terrible wandmaker."

"Deed you 'ear ze bang from zat man wiz ze Pot'art wand?" Fleur shook her head. "Eet was bigger zan ze 'ole from ze dragon." Harry, Ron and Hermione ducked their heads while Ginny sniggered into her mashed potatoes.

"Maybe it was not the wand … but the wizard?" Percy suggested.

"Non," Fleur replied. " 'e never did zat wiz his old wand." She seemed very serious but George and Ron were openly sniggering about the inappropriate connotations in her speech.

"The ice cream parlour has opened up again," Bill added, frowning at Ron. "I thought it was Florean at first but it's his nephew. Seems old Florean never came back …" The mood grew somber for a moment.

"I, ah, met his nephew," Harry said quietly clearing his throat. "That summer before third year after I blew up my aunt and ran away."

"I wish we hadn't gone to Egypt that summer," Mrs Weasley said fretfully, heaping Harry's plate with more potatoes and piling carrots onto Ron's. "You could have come here instead of had to stay in that dingy pub."

"I was fine," Harry said. "I had a good time that summer. Florean used to give me free ice cream and help me with my homework."

"You probably ate too much ice cream," Mrs Weasley said disapprovingly.

"Probably," Harry shrugged and smiled.

The following day Mr Weasley and Percy talked animatedly about the changes at the Ministry but Harry felt strangely detached. It was as if they were talking underwater in a language he didn't understand. Harry thought he should be doing something about the Ministry but didn't really know how and definitely felt like he didn't want to. He spent the day before the Ministry's Ceremony down by the pond with Ginny. They talked about the Quidditch league starting up again, Teddy who had started smiling and the possibility of going to Australia with Hermione.

"I don't think Mum'll like it," Ginny sighed, lying on her stomach by the pond's edge. "I'm not exactly of age."

"She might let you …" Harry trailed off, knowing it was unlikely. "I don't want to leave you." He turned to Ginny and watched as she lazily prodded a caterpillar with a twig.

"Me either," Ginny said so softly he barely heard her.

"Might not be able to go anyway," Harry said. "Hermione reckons their Ministry is a bit particular about who they let come to the country. Only one way to Portkey in and she can't figure out where her parents have gone anyway; something about privacy laws or something Muggle."

"I thought she put in paperwork to travel?"

"She has," Harry shrugged. "She reckons she'll go alone if she has to but …" Harry didn't say anything further even though the thought of Hermione travelling alone made both Harry and Ron very anxious.

The three were still in negotiations about who would go and when. Ron was unwilling to leave George and equally unwilling to let Hermione travel alone. Harry was reluctant to leave Ginny but had promised Hermione they'd go and get her parents. After all the things they had shared together over the years and their general inseparability, this inability to figure out the adventure was beginning to wear on all three of them.

"You should just go," Ginny said softly, her face turned up to catch the sun's rays. "I'll be okay, and you won't be long, will you?" Harry, who was lying next to her on his stomach reached out to stroke her fingers.

"But I'll miss you," he said quietly. "I said we could be together now. If I go away again, we can't be together." He rolled onto his back, screwing up his eyes against the sun, his fingers plucking at the grass.

"Oh Harry," cried Ginny, she placed her hand over Harry's heart. "We'd still be together, in here. When you leave, if I know you're coming back to me we're together, even when we are apart. We were together all last year because I knew you were coming back to me." Harry gazed up at her as she leant over him, her hand resting on his chest and her hair falling out of the hastily constructed ponytail it had been put in that morning. It cureled around her face in the humidity of the June afternoon.

"It didn't feel like we were together," he whispered. "I missed you so much."

"Me too," Ginny breathed as she lowered her head and met his lips with her own. The rest of her hair came tumbling down as Harry threaded his hands into her hair, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. He ran his hands down her back and pulled her to him, her hair falling like a curtain around their heads as they kissed. Harry could feel little trails of heat where Ginny's hands traced the muscles on his chest through the thin cotton of his T shirt and moved to rest on his waist. Their legs and feet entwined and Harry rolled over, pinning Ginny beneath him. It was a slow and sensual kiss not at all rushed and Harry felt like it was getting hotter laying out there in the June sunshine while Ginny's small hands slid up under his T Shirt and ran up his spine.

"Oi!" They hastily broke apart at the sound of Ron's voice and looked over to see him glaring at them while George stood at his elbow and smirked. "Can't you two keep your hands to yourselves?"

"No," stated Ginny, "and why would we want to?"

"Because I don't want to see it, that's why, you know that!"

"No one invited you to look, Ronald!"

"Well if you carry on in public like this I don't have much choice do I?"

"Oh, so would you rather we 'carried on' in strict privacy, you know where you can't see us, no one to stop us…" Ginny trailed off an evil grin on her face and Harry blushed tomato red.

"I – well … that's just … the thing is … oh that's completely beside the point!" Ron, white faced and stammering turned to George. "Tell her!" George shook his head mutely he was clearly enjoying this little show.

"When you two figure out exactly where the boundaries of our relationship are, and in which areas we can conduct it, you let me know, okay?" Harry snapped and strode off into the house. Ginny was screeching at Ron but Harry didn't pay any attention to what she was saying. He stomped up the back steps and into the house closing the door a little more firmly behind him than was strictly necessary.

"Everything all right, dear?" asked Mrs Weasley. Harry just nodded and edged out of the kitchen silently, taking the stairs two at a time until he reached Ron's room and flopped down on his bed.

He heard Ron, Ginny and George enter the kitchen noisily a short while later, the din carried through the house and up to the little room under the attic. Suddenly all noise ceased and then Harry heard the tread of one set of footsteps on the stairs. There was a knock at the door.

"Harry?" Harry sighed, debating whether or not to let Mrs Weasley in. It wasn't a long debate and he got up and opened the door.

"May I come in dear?" she asked him and he just nodded as she took a few steps inside before he closed the door behind her and sat heavily on his bed. Mrs Weasley didn't beat about the bush.

"What's bothering you Harry?" He shrugged. Mrs Weasley continued. "Ron doesn't mean to interfere, you know. He was upset when you and Ginny broke up last summer."

"Yeah, so was I," muttered Harry as he stared out of the window.

"I know they tease her," Mrs Weasley sighed. "But really, to them, only you have ever been good enough for Ginny. Ron worries you'll break up with her again. He covers it up by pretending he doesn't want to know you two are even going out. For the other boys it's just teasing, but Ron's scared."

"I know he doesn't want me to hurt Ginny," said Harry. "But why's he so scared? It wouldn't mean anything to him in the long run would it? Ginny and I are the ones who'd have to deal with it."

"What happened when you broke up with Cho?" Mrs Weasely enquired. "What about Ron and Lavender?"

"Merlin, you heard about Lavender too?" shuddered Harry. He looked up. Mrs Weasley didn't look at all _pleased_ to have heard about Lavender and Harry couldn't stop the grin forming on his face before he frowned. "Cho and I couldn't even look at each other after we broke up. I don't think Ron can look at Lavender now."

"Well, that's what Ron's afraid of," said Mrs Weasley. "If you and Ginny end up so you can't even look at each other, he's worried he'll get stuck in the middle. He's not dealing with it very effectively of course. If he keeps going the way he is he'll ostracise the both of you anyway. I've seen the way he looks at you two before he remembers to be outraged. There's a look that steals over his face at first when he sees you two whispering to each other or when you hold her hand or she kisses your cheek. He loves watching you two love each other." Harry started, staring at Mrs Weasley in surprise. She leaned over and patted him on the knee.

"He's just scared of losing you if you break up badly. Ginny reacts because she doesn't understand why Ron can't be happy for her and for you. Ron wants you to love her the way she's always loved you, he's scared of what will happen if you do though," Mrs Weasley paused while Harry blushed.

"He's too late. I already love her," whispered Harry. Mrs Weasley smiled.

"I think deep down, he knows that. He's still trying to learn how to share you with someone besides Hermione. They'll sort it out. Now come down and have a spot of tea," she finished as she rose and headed for the door.

"Thanks," said Harry softly as she opened the door and Mrs Weasley turned and smiled at him.

"No worries dear, now come on, I made scones," she said as she hurried back down the crooked staircase. Harry leapt off the bed and bounded down the stairs after her.

As he entered the kitchen Ron and Ginny both looked up from the cups of tea they were stirring endlessly. George was leaning against a sideboard munching on a scone. He looked as though he was waiting to watch a much touted Quidditch match. Harry wordlessly took the cup of tea Mrs Weasley thrust at him and sat down.

"Er, mate…" began Ron before he trailed off. Ginny sighed.

"What he means to say is sorry," she said quietly. "We're both sorry, aren't we Ron?" Perhaps she stepped on his foot or kicked him under the table because Ron suddenly winced and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I just, well…" Ron stopped and ran a hand haphazardly through his hair.

" 'Sokay Ron, doesn't matter," interrupted Harry. "I shouldn't have lost my temper, sorry."

"No," started Ron fiercely, "you shouldn't be apologising! I was the one who acted like a great big ar– "

"Ronald!" warned Mrs Weasley. Ginny giggled and Ron blushed. Harry found it hard to hide a smile.

"Ah, I was a bit unfair, have been for the past couple of weeks. Reckon I could be a bit more mature about things, you know? 'Sides, 'snot like Hermione and I – er, well so anyway I'll keep my opinions, you know, to myself or something," said Ron. His face softened and he looked at the table. "I like that you two are together. I don't want you to stop … you know, but, well, seems I can't help blowing things out of proportion inside my head and imaging the worst." Ron shrugged helplessly as a blush crept up his neck and onto his cheeks and Ginny threw her arms around him.

"Oh Ron, you're so sweet!" she sniffed. George threw down his scone and launched himself at them wailing theatrically about sibling love and ickle Ronnikins and how the babies were growing up right before his very eyes.

"Geroffame! Gerroff!" mumbled Ron from his place at the bottom of the pile of Weasleys now on the kitchen floor. "Harry, help!" For his part Harry just grinned until George reached out and pulled Harry off his chair into the pile of tangled limbs on the floor.

"Come and feel the love, Harry!" They were still trying to untangle themselves when the back door creaked open. Charlie shook his head as he stepped over them and snatched a scone off the plate in the middle of the table.

"How old are you lot?" he asked rhetorically as he surveyed the four of them laughing helplessly on the floor. It seemed that was the moment for homecomings as a few minutes later Bill and Fleur burst through the door, Fleur giggling outrageously. Bill shook his head at the tangled bunch on the floor and he and Fleur made for the stairs. They seemed a little breathless and flustered when Mrs Weasley began to ask them about their day. They were clearly trying to exit the room with exceeding haste. Harry stifled a snort with a great deal of difficulty as George murmured that Bill and Fleur clearly had certain activities on their mind and their mother was definitely cooling their ardour.

"The woman gave birth to _seven_ children. How can she not see what they are thinking? I've _seen_ the way she looks at dad too," George whispered with a shudder.

"Well are you going to rescue them then?" muttered Charlie and he stooped down to help George up and hide the smirk now gracing his features.

"No way!" exclaimed George softly. "This way is so much more fun!" Charlie extended a hand to Ron and then Harry while George pulled Ginny to her feet and the five of them sat down in a row at the kitchen table watching Mrs Weasley chat aimlessly to the young married couple as they fidgeted and tried to edge to the hallway and the staircase beyond.

"Maybe it's time they went home," whispered Charlie. "It must be killing them!"

"They forgot the silencing charm last night," muttered George in an undertone, "home time indeed." Harry noticed that Bill was now glaring at his younger siblings. Mrs Weasley had succeeded in dragging Fleur into the small scullery off the kitchen and Bill stood with his arms crossed and a very grumpy look on his face.

"Ginny! Can you come in here a moment? We need to get the vegetables for dinner started." Ginny pulled a face.

"Because I'm a girl, yay. I get to help cook," she scowled. Harry smiled at her sympathetically before she flounced off into the scullery. Harry wondered briefly why Mrs Weasley was considering starting the vegetables when he could distinctly smell a delicious stew simmering in the cauldron on the stove. Then Bill advanced on them.

"Thanks a lot!" he hissed. "I know very well that you lot knew perfectly well what was going on there, could you not give a bloke a hand?" Charlie tilted his head to the side, studying Bill carefully.

"Nope!" he said cheerfully. "Why should _I_ assist _you_ in obtaining that sort of goal if I myself have no opportunity for the same?" George nodded sagely.

"Besides that was punishment for your forgetfulness last night," he said. Bill sat down heavily at the table and groaned.

"We forgot the silencing charm?" George and Charlie nodded.

"Trapped in a room with your brothers it's the last thing you need to hear coming from the next room, mate," Charlie informed him with a shudder.

"Did you two hear it as well?" Bill sighed, looking at Ron and Harry who shook their heads mutely. Harry felt his face heating up listening to a casual conversation about intimate matters. Mrs Weasley, Fleur and Ginny emerged from the scullery looking decidedly flushed and not actually carrying any vegetables out of the tiny room. The back door creaked open and Percy entered the kitchen with his father.

"Beel, I zink zat per'aps we shall be going 'ome tomorrow, after ze Ceremony, non?" said Fleur.

"Yes, well if you are going to forget silencing charms, that probably is best," Percy said, hanging up his lightweight cloak by the kitchen door.

"Percy!" his mother hissed.

"Come now, are we not all adults here? We should be able to discuss these things in a frank and open manner," insisted Percy.

"Ginny is not yet an adult," Mrs Weasley asserted. "There is a time and a place and, well … certain company, in which to discuss these things!" Ginny rolled her eyes behind her mother's back.

"Yes, and I wish it wasn't in mine," said Harry out the side of his mouth to Ron. "At the Dursleys they were still telling Dudley that babies came from the Cabbage Patch. I think they thought he still believed them! There was never a frank and open discussion about anything other than how much trouble I was."

To Harry's relief the conversation went no further as at that moment Hermione flew in her face flushed and eyes sparkling with excitement.

"I found them!" she burst out. "I found them! I put a message in all the papers and I found them! They're in Yackandandah!"

"Yackkawhere?"

"Yackandandah! It's about twenty minutes from Wodonga, in Victoria's goldfields but they needed dentists and my parents went there!" said Hermione excitedly.

"Wodowhat? They've got Galleons sitting around in the fields down there? Haven't they ever heard of a bank?"

"Oh Ron, stop being silly," said Hermione, bestowing a beatific smile on him as she slid into a seat next to Harry at the kitchen table. It seemed nothing could dampen her mood right now. "Yackandandah is an Indigenous word describing the town and Wodonga is the nearest regional centre. It's on the river that borders Victoria and New South Wales and Wodonga means bulrushes. Goldfields are areas where they mine for gold."

"Hermione, I have absolutely no idea what any of that means. You know that don't you?" said Ron and Hermione nodded feverishly. "But you have been reading books again, haven't you?" Hermione slapped him on the arm.

"Actually Ronald, I've been learning all about the internet and emailing on the computer. The librarian showed me all about it and I set up an email and the letters just appear in there and everything but it does research Ron! It's like having thousands of books in one computer!" Hermione was positively glowing and no one had any idea what she was talking about, although Harry did have a head start as he did know what a computer was at least.

"Muggles," Mr Weasley said shaking his head as he sat down, "it's amazing the things they come up with."

"So you know where they are now dear, that's wonderful," said Mrs Weasley from the stove where she was stirring a positively massive cauldron full of delicious smelling stew.

"What did you tell them to get them to respond?" asked Bill.

"I said in the personal ad that it was in relation to an inheritance matter," Hermione blushed. "It's sort of true … some people think children are an inheritance … of sorts … I didn't do anything underhand or wrong and well, they won't care when they get their memories back will they?"

"So you've found them, you've submitted your paperwork and you've figured out how to reverse the memory charm then?" enquired Bill. Hermione shook her head.

"I've found them, I've submitted paperwork but I haven't figured out how I'll go about the reversal yet. It was next on my list."

"When are you going?" asked Ron softly.

"I don't know. The paperwork could take another month or even two, then I have to organise funds and book portkeys and things," Hermione admitted. "As soon as possible; I want to go as soon as possible, Ron." Ron turned to Harry, his eyes pleading.

"Can you help me submit the paperwork, Hermione?" Harry asked slowly. "I want mine to be ready when yours is." Harry almost felt Ron sag in relief and Hermione's eyes shone with unshed tears as she threw her arms around his neck.

"Hang on," said George sharply. "Why aren't _you_ going with her Ron?" Ron shifted uncomfortably and rubbed the back of his neck looking at the floor.

"Is it money?" demanded George. "Because if it's that I'll –"

"No, it's not that," interrupted Ron.

"Well then why is Harry going? Why is he leaving Ginny again when Hermione's _your_ bird?"

"I am not a bird!" huffed Hermione.

"Oh, you know what I mean, Hermione!" snapped George. "It's affectionate and all that guff, you tell me why Harry's going and not him?"

"Really George," said Ginny timidly, "it's okay. We all talked about it."

"Well not with me you didn't!"

"And what's it got to do with you anyway?" demanded Ron.

"Everything if the reason is me!" The four of them shuffled their feet and looked anywhere but at George. George stood up and began shouting.

"They," he indicated Harry and Ginny, "have been apart for a _year_ and you want him to go running off to look after the woman that _you_ are supposed to love, and be apart again? Why? Is it because of me? _Is it because of me_?"

"I told you I wouldn't leave you alone, George, and I'm not going to. Yeah we all talked about it because we're the ones who are going to have to live with the decision and miss each other like crazy. We're adults, George. We can make our own decisions. We have been all year," Ron was trying desperately to keep his voice down and failing miserably.

"Ginny is not an adult," spat George.

"I do wish people would stop saying that," the girl in question muttered. "It's only fifty two days until I am."

"Counting Gin?" smirked Charlie.

"Not much."

"I don't like the idea of either of you running off to Australia dears," said Mrs Weasley. "Perhaps you could leave it to the Ministry, I am sure they'd be able to take care of it. What sort of things could happen to you in that place? We don't even know if you'll be safe!" She started to tremble and Fleur took her wand and sat her down in the nearest chair. Harry and Hermione looked guiltily at each other. They had definitely not meant to cause all of this.

George and Ron started up their argument again, Mrs Weasley continued to wring her hands and Harry and Hermione were at a total loss. It was Bill who managed to restore order.

"Hermione, it strikes me that you may need a little help when you get there. Curse breakers are very useful types of people to have around when reversing spells, jinxes and curses … or memory charms. Fleur and I never did get a honeymoon and Australia sounds like a delightful place. We could spend some time there after packing you and your parents back home," said Bill thoughtfully. "How about it Fleur?" Harry rather though Fleur agreed given the way she flew at her husband squealing and kissing him full on the mouth – something he was happy to reciprocate.

"Still doesn't solve the fact that Ron should be with her," insisted George. Fleur waved her hand airily as she surfaced from the passionate kiss she had bestowed upon her husband.

"Zo, 'e shall come too, non? Eef money ees not a problem as you zay, zen 'e can come too."

"I'm not leaving George," stated Ron, immovable.

"Zo, breeng 'im wiz you, I do not care. We shall 'ave more zan one room, oui mon amour?" Harry swore she began to purr at Bill. "I am sure zat a 'oliday in zee country weel do 'im some good. Eet weel do me some good." She was definitely purring.

"There, that's settled then," said Mrs Weasley briskly. "Let's get this table sorted for dinner."

"Harry should still go," Ginny said quietly. He looked at her in surprise and shook his head.

"If Ron and George and Bill _and_ Fleur are all there, they don't need me to go too!" he exclaimed. "I want to stay with you."

"Well, like Fleur said, it would be a wonderful holiday and honestly who most needs a holiday in this room?" Ginny was sounding fairly sure but Harry could see her hands trembling and the unshed tears collecting in the corners of her eyes.

"I want to stay with you," repeated Harry. "If I don't need to go away from you I'm not going to, ever again. I know I told Hermione I'd help her bring her mum and dad home but Hermione understands." Hermione nodded emphatically. Harry reached out to hold Ginny's trembling hands in his. "I don't need a holiday if I'm with you."

"Just breeng 'er too," said Fleur, looking up from where she had been nuzzling Bill's neck. "Zen you can have your 'oliday and Ginny at ze same time." Ginny shook her head ruefully.

"_Now _someone conveniently forgets I'm not of age," she muttered.

"Capital idea, splendid!" started Mr Weasley. His wife looked at him in horror.

"You cannot be serious, Arthur! Letting Ginny go halfway around the world? I don't think so!" Mr Weasley however was not to be swayed.

"She's nearly of age, Molly. She'd be with Bill and George and Ron and they would never let anything happen to her," he stood up and looked Molly directly in the eye. "She'd be with _Harry_, Molly. She couldn't _be_ any safer. And you'd be doing this for Harry too. He won't leave her and you tell me he couldn't use some relaxing days in the sun?" Mrs Weasley turned around to inspect Harry.

"It's winter in Australia," said Hermione. "I'm not sure there'd be any sun."

"Well, you are looking a bit peaky, dear," Mrs Weasley said as she eyed Harry critically. "Maybe you should go, do you the world of good." Harry shook his head. The matter was dropped but there was lingering tension and Harry couldn't quite put his finger on who it was between or what it was over, it simply swirled around the room like mist. As they cleared the table at the end of the meal Mr Weasley pulled Harry aside.

"File your papers, file Ginny's too. Leave Molly to me," said Mr Weasley quietly. They were all shooed to bed early by a still unsettled Mrs Weasley who cited the next morning's ceremony as the reason but somehow they all knew it was so she could have it out with her husband.

As they made their way up to the first landing George got out his wand and made a production of showing Bill how to cast a silencing charm. He had the charm cast on his own head for his troubles.

*********************

Harry heard a ruckus as he made his way down the stairs early the next morning. He'd woken up early after a fitful night, feeling a nervousness that a long hot shower had not helped. He had given up trying to do anything with his hair and headed downstairs despite the fact that it was still too early for breakfast to be on. It was shaping up to be a day too warm to be wearing stiff and formal dress robes and he was feeling generally disgruntled. His previous positivity towards the Order of Merlin Ceremony had been replaced by a ball of nervous energy and a pit of anxiety in his stomach. As he entered the kitchen he discovered Ginny at the centre of the maelstrom of activity.

Why George and Charlie decided to find her Harry Potter storybook and use it to take the mickey out of her on this particular morning was a complete and utter mystery. Neither saw Harry as he entered the kitchen, too intent were they on teasing Ginny. She was jumping frantically, trying desperately to grab the book that was being levitated just out of her reach.

"Just you wait until mum and dad get in here," raged Ginny at Charlie. "You're only doing this because I can't use magic back at you! I am so going to get you for this!"

"It's my prerogative to tease you, squirt," said Charlie. "I'm trying to get my fill in before I go back to Romania. I know it seems like I'm picking on you a lot, but really it will all even out." Charlie waved his wand back and forth and made the book soar through the air, skimming Ginny's fingertips.

"Oooooh, I just wish you'd go away already!" fumed Ginny. "I have had enough of you, I can't _wait_ until I am of age!" Charlie laughed. Harry took out his wand, still unseen by the other three.

"_Expelliarmus_!" he cried and Charlie's wand flew out of his hand and Harry reached out to catch it as it spun across the kitchen towards him. The book fell earthward with sudden speed, landing on Charlie's head, knocking him off balance and to the floor and Ginny ran to snatch it up. Charlie looked up at Harry a bizarre mixture of fear and sheepishness on his face.

"And that's why they are giving _me_ an Order of Merlin," quipped Harry as he helped Charlie to his feet.

"You always take her side," muttered George. Harry smiled and shrugged.

"She's got more to offer me than you lot," he said as he reached out to stop Ginny leaving. She was trying to edge backwards to the kitchen door her hands behind her back, shaking her head as Harry walked towards her. George snickered. Ginny was bright red.

"C'mon, lemme see it," wheedled Harry. Ginny shook her head violently. Harry tried his best puppy dog look, the one that always worked with Mrs Weasley.

It did not work with Ginny.

Unluckily for her Ron came barreling through the door at that moment, saw what was behind her back and swiped it from her without her even noticing he was there.

"Oh ho!" he cried in triumph. "Little Gin-Gin's _book_!" Ginny looked to be on the verge of tears.

"Give it back to her, Ron," growled Harry, his protective instincts going into overdrive at the sight of Ginny's distraught face. Ron handed it back to her solemnly, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'whipped'. Ginny snatched the book and ran back up the stairs. Harry shook his head at the three Weasleys in the kitchen before going after her.

He ran into Hermione and Mr and Mrs Weasley on the stairs as he took them three at a time. They must have seen Ginny race up just before him because they did not stop to question him and moved aside to let him pass. He caught sight of the bottom of her robes as she reached the landing and disappeared into her room, the door slipping quietly closed behind her. Racing up the last few steps he knocked softly on her door to no avail.

"Please, Ginny, let me in," he pleaded with the smooth wooden door. Percy came past at that moment and asked Harry rather pointedly if it was appropriate to be going into Ginny's room. Harry was unsure whether Percy's commonsense made him drop the subject and hurry down the stairs or if it was the look on his face and raised wand.

"I don't care about the book. I won't look at it. I just want to make sure you're okay. Please, let me in," Harry pleaded. He leaned his forehead on the door. "Don't shut me out." Harry could hear the faint sounds of Hermione and Mrs Weasley remonstrating with Charlie, George and Ron downstairs. Slowly Ginny's bedroom door creaked open, her brown eyes peering out at him like they had that first morning he'd come to The Burrow. Her eyes were red rimmed and Harry reached out a hand to stroke her cheek.

"Can I come in?" he whispered. Ginny moved away from the door and Harry pushed it open and slipped inside. Ginny had her back to him and Harry closed the door quietly before putting his arms around her. As he noticed the book tossed haphazardly on her bed she turned around in his embrace and began quietly crying into his shirt. This was not the Ginny he was used to. The Ginny he was used to rarely cried and definitely didn't cry over teasing of the familial variety. He patted her back awkwardly and had absolutely no idea what to do or say.

Suddenly Ginny pulled away and turned to fiddle with her hairbrush. Harry kept silent, hands in his pockets as he waited for her to speak.

"It should have been Fred," she suddenly whispered, staring out of the window. "I don't care if they tease me, not really. It's a little embarrassing…" She waved vaguely at the book on her bed which Harry could see had a heart drawn around his name.

"Don't be," Harry said softly.

"But the thing that hurts the most is that it was Charlie," Ginny admitted. "It's so stupid. Here they are threatening to expose my silly childhood fantasies, to _you_ and I'm crying because it was Charlie teasing me and not Fred! I just miss him, you know. If things were right, if it was normal it would have been Fred and George, not Charlie and George." She finished in a whisper, turning around as a lone tear rolled down her cheek. Harry just held her in his arms and let her cry.

A short time later they both descended the stairs, the book in hand for Hermione who had wanted to see it. George and Charlie were sitting at the table, subdued and Ron was trying to get Hermione to talk to him. Harry handed Hermione the Harry Potter storybook. She squealed in delight and immediately opened the book and buried her head in it.

"Hang on!" exclaimed Charlie. "It didn't look like that before!"

"Oh, I fixed it," replied Harry airily. He had embellished the heart a nine year old Ginny Weasley had drawn around his name on the cover, adding '_HP 4 GW'_ inside it and giving the drawing of a very young Harry on the front a thought bubble that said '_Ginny Weasley is my Chosen One, I just don't know it yet'_.

Ron shook his head and Hermione, taking a look at the cover gave Harry a long winded lecture about the care of books and how one does _not_ write on them, thank you very much! Harry just smiled and reached for Ginny's hand under the table, eating one handed as he entwined his fingers with hers.

*********************

Harry felt a certain sense of trepidation as he Flooed into the Ministry Atrium. Kingsley had reopened the Apparition points at the Ministry so that people could attend the Ceremony but had connected The Burrow up to the fireplaces in the Atrium. He assured Harry that it was to offer him a measure of security because they could control that area but Harry wondered rather privately if it was because he hadn't actually got an Apparition licence. Everyone had seemed willing to let him Apparate in until Hermione helpfully pointed out that he didn't have a licence. The Burrow had been connected to the Ministry within the hour.

As he tumbled out of the fireplace Harry noticed that the dreary darkness which had overtaken the Atrium during the past year had lifted. It was deserted which he found unusual but certainly not bothersome and the dark floors once again shone, the peacock blue ceiling with its roving gilt shapes seemed to be more vibrant than ever and the dreadful statue that had dominated the Atrium last time he had been there was gone. In its place was a raised dais. Harry contemplated what it might be for, trying to ignore the rotund security wizard who was standing three feet away, staring at him. Mr Weasley had Flooed in behind him. The rest of the family began exiting the fireplace one by one.

"That's temporary, for the Ceremony today," Mr Weasley explained. They are going to put a fountain there again, when someone gets around to designing one." Harry nodded and, having had enough of being stared at, strode over to the security wizard and stuck his hand out.

"Hello! Harry Potter. Nice to meet you," he said. "And you are?" The wizard offered a pudgy hand rather mechanically.

"Er, S-s-salisbury S-stoke," the little round man stammered. Harry shook the man's hand with apparent enthusiasm and then lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

"I don't suppose you could tell me who's supposed to be meeting me and taking me to see the Minister, could you?" Clearly it was Salisbury's job because he abruptly came to his senses and rather officiously nodded.

"Of course, of course, this way Mr Potter," and Salisbury Stoke led Harry into a lift, the Weasleys and Hermione crowding in after him. They soon found themselves in Kingsley's office and Mr Stoke scurried away, looking back over his shoulder a couple of times as if he still couldn't quite believe he had seen Harry Potter, in the flesh. George only stopped ribbing Harry about not giving the poor man an autograph when Harry promised to autograph George's forehead with everlasting ink.

Kingsley greeted them and began to explain the Ceremony that would take place that morning. It was going to be short and sweet; just an hour, broadcast on the WWN, with a press reception afterwards; the questions had already been submitted and approved by Kingsley, followed by lunch. Then he could simply go home.

"Kingsley, you are the best Minister of Magic in the History of, well, magic," said Harry. "Not too long, not too fussy, brilliant!"

"Mr Potter, you forget I have come to know you fairly well and pomp and ceremony are definitely not your thing," returned Kingsley.

"Understatement," coughed Ron behind his hand. Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

"Say, Kingsley, you don't think there's anyone about who can do my Apparition test?" Harry asked.

It turned out there was someone who could, and in the short time they had before the Ceremony was to start, a rather starstruck witch tested Harry on his Apparition and issued his licence. Then the Weasleys returned to the Atrium while Harry went with Kingsley to stand on the dais in the now crowded Atrium, the assembled witches and wizards falling absolutely silent as they joined several witches and wizards on the dais.

There was a sudden cacophony of sound as the crowd in the Atrium began cheering when they saw Harry, delaying the start of the Ceremony for a good ten minutes. A few official looking people began to give speeches about the new direction of the Ministry, the future and the incomparable sacrifice that those who had lost their lives had made. Harry watched as the sea of brightly robed witches and wizards cheered and clapped each brief speaker but he wasn't yet eighteen and, quite frankly, stuffy middle aged men and women delivering speeches about an event in which they had not taken part was not only boring for an active young mind but Harry found it just a little hypocritical. He found his mind wandering and he began to search the crowd for faces that he knew in order to pass the time.

There was a knot of Weasleys close to the edge of the dais. Mr and Mrs Weasley looked up at him, wearing expressions that made them look for all the world like they were his proud parents. Harry reflected that for all intents and purposes they were and he had never felt so blessed to have had them in his life. Harry gave them a little wave and Mrs Weasley beamed wider. Charlie was conjuring what looked like a sign and trying to pin it surreptitiously to Percy's back as the latter stood stiffly, his back ramrod straight, attention riveted on the speakers. Harry was not surprised to see Penelope Clearwater had joined them, her arm hooked through Percy's. Bill was standing behind Fleur, his arms around her. Harry was not at all certain they were listening as they seemed to be swaying slightly and wearing dreamy expressions. Not seeing George, Ginny, Ron or Hermione he began to search the crowd for them.

Mrs Figg was there, still in her carpet slippers but clearly wearing her best housecoat. Harry idly wondered where the Dursleys were right now and decided that although he did not care he should at least find out. Dudley had been decent enough the last time they saw each other after all. His eyes still roving, Harry spotted Xenophilious Lovegood in burnt orange robes waving his arms in the air in a complex pattern that Harry was sure he once seen Luna do when waffling about Wrackspurts. He couldn't see Luna, however. He kept looking, spotting various members of the Order of the Phoenix and a few people he thought worked at the Ministry. Hagrid was waving to him from the furthest corner and Harry waved back. Auntie Muriel and her enormous pink feathered hat were next to Neville's grandmother. Mrs Longbottom's vulture hat looked as though it could eat Muriel's feather concoction for dinner. Still Harry failed to find any of his friends; Neville was nowhere near his grandmother.

Frowning slightly and wondering why those who were closest to him had decided to either not come or wander off and not pay attention Harry spotted Andromeda with little Teddy and standing slightly behind her, Viktor Krum. Maybe it was a good thing Ron had apparently vanished. Forcing his attention back to the speakers, and vowing to have words with his friends for abandoning him, Harry caught the tail end of Kingsley's speech.

" –and so it is not only one man who effected the future we all now look forward to, welcome the members of Dumbledore's Army without whom we would not be celebrating this victory today!" Harry spun around to see Ron and Hermione, grinning broadly and leading a group of young witches and wizards whom Harry knew intimately onto the dais. His jaw fell open.

"Brilliant!" he breathed at Kingsley who just smiled and handed him a medal that Harry saw was an Order of Merlin, Second Class, with Ron's name on it. He looked at Kingsley questioningly.

"Haven't been listening, have you Potter?" muttered Kingsley out the side of his mouth. Harry blushed. Kingsley turned to address the assembled crowd who were cheering and clapping as the members of Dumbledore's Army filed onto the stage. "Mr Potter will now address us before he presents these fine young people with their medals."

Harry gulped. He caught Ron's eye and noticed he was trying not to laugh at the look on Harry's face, which, if the way Harry was feeling was anything to go by, was probably a look of sheer panic. Hermione was trying to look encouraging and nodding at him. Behind them stood Neville who looked pleased and proud, Luna who looked just a little bit vague and Ginny who was smiling that same radiant smile she had bestowed on him in the Room of Requirement as she climbed through the portrait hole followed by Fred and George and Lee. As his eyes roamed over the group assembled behind them he remembered that these were the people who had first trusted him, first believed him. These were the people who had first shown faith in him as he taught them how to defend themselves in a room at the top of Hogwarts. His eyes came to rest on George and Harry heard Fred in the Room of Requirement that night, defending Dumbledore's Army to his mother and Harry knew just what to say.

"There were some people who didn't think we were serious. Some people thought we were just a group of children, a teenager's gang, playing about," he said to the assembled crowd who had fallen silent when he began to speak. "But these are the bravest people I know. They were the people who first believed in me. Without Ron and Hermione I wouldn't even be here, they've been my best friends, my lifeline. Without Neville and Ginny and Luna this past year we'd never have held it together long enough to defeat Voldemort-" Harry rolled his eyes at the audible gasp that went up.

"We couldn't have done it without you. It's taken me a while to figure this out but I don't have to do everything alone," said Harry as he turned to address his friends. Hermione sniffed but smiled at him as a tear rolled down her cheek. Harry turned back to the audience. "We may have been a teenager's gang but we dared, we dared to take on Voldemort and we won. This group of teenagers, this gang, was the first to turn up, to dare." A cheer went up as Harry finished and turned to hand the medal in his hand to Ron.

Kingsley Shacklebolt read out the names of Dumbldore's Army starting with Ron and Hermione then reading out Neville and Luna and Ginny. Harry handed each one of them a medal and gave them a hug. He was sure that the kiss he gave Ginny on the cheek was noticed by at least one person as he heard George wolf whistle as he did so. Harry realised he didn't have to pretend anymore and before she left his embrace he lowered his head and gave her a lingering kiss on the lips. Seamus and Dean joined in the wolf whistling and more than one camera flash went off but Harry didn't care. At that moment, standing with those friends and family most dear to him he felt like the happiness had finally come.

He released Ginny, who was blushing to the roots of her hair, and as Kingsley went alphabetically through the members of Dumbledore's Army he handed each one a medal. He hugged Hannah Abbott, Lavender Brown, Katie Bell and Susan Bones before shaking the hands of Terry Boot, Cho Chang and Michael Corner. Cho looked a little disappointed but Harry was too busy looking at Dennis's sad face as Kingsley read out Colin's posthumous award. Harry took the medal gingerly and looked at the name engraved on it, tracing it with his finger.

"Make him proud," he whispered as he hugged Dennis, handing him Colin's Order of Merlin and then his own. Dennis managed a watery smile as he moved to stand with the others where Neville waited to comfort him. Justin Finch-Fletchley, Seamus Finnigan and Anthony Goldstein might have only got handshakes but after Angelina got a hug Lee Jordan moved in for one as well and laughing, Harry complied. Pompous Ernie Macmillan and the Patil twins were followed by Zacharias Smith, Alicia Spinnet and Dean Thomas. And then only George was left and two medals were still in the little box Kingsley held.

His eyes swimming with tears Harry took them both and as Kingsley read out Fred Weasley and then George Weasley he handed them to George who stared at them for a long moment before Harry reached out and embraced him. George hugged him back and as he pulled away, wiping his cheeks he grinned at Harry and said,

"Don't you even think of snogging _me_ Potter!" The assembled group of young witches and wizards burst out laughing as they all gathered around Harry for one enormous group hug and it was with some difficulty that Kingsley managed to extricate Harry in order to receive his own medal, an Order of Merlin First Class.

"Thank you, Harry," said Kingsley, his voice low and rumbly. "We are in your debt." Harry shook his head.

"Then your repayment is to live, to rebuild your lives and keep going," he said and the crowd cheered as he posed with Dumbledore's Army for several cameras.

The press conference was over quickly with straightforward questions about what he was going to do now, if he supported the current Minister of Magic becoming permanent and if he was going to try out for Professional Quidditch. Lunch was a rowdy, enjoyable affair with the Weasleys, most of the Order including Hagrid and Professor McGonagall, and Dumbledore's Army. Before they were seated Mrs Weasley scolded him for his extremely public display of affection but Harry could tell she didn't really mean it. Behind her back Charlie gave him two thumbs up and Mr Weasley winked at him making Harry blush as heavily as Ginny had earlier.

No one wanted to leave the Banquet Room that they had repaired to for lunch after the meal itself was over. Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle informed Harry, when he asked, that Vernon, Petunia and Dudley had returned home after Number Four Privet Drive had been rebuilt by magical means and were as well as could be expected. This meant that Vernon was still ungrateful, Petunia was still thin lipped and nervous and Dudley was asking if Harry was really all right. After consoling an emotional Hagrid and being swept up by several Order members for pats on the back and handshakes Harry snuck away from the crowd and, pulling Ginny with him, found a secluded spot that was largely obscured by a massive potted fern.

"Hey there, Ginny," he asked as he pulled her close. "How come you guys didn't tell me about the medals?" Ginny grinned up at him, her red hair framed her face like fire and her eyes sparkled.

"We wanted to surprise you. Kingsley asked us what we thought and we told him you'd hate to be singled out so he spoke to Neville and Luna and he figured you'd want the DA to be recognised," she said. "That day you asked him about the Ceremony, the day that newspaper article came out, he was going to tell you but you were so confident when you spoke about it that we decided to keep it a secret and surprise you."

"It was a lovely surprise," whispered Harry and he dropped his lips to hers, their bodies melding together seamlessly as they stood behind the massive fern.

That was where Bill found them twenty minutes later, their lips still caressing each other's, Ginny's hands in his hair and his hands stroking her back. A discreet cough broke them apart.

"Mum's looking for you two," he said, grinning. "Be glad _I_ found you. Dad'll have no chance of convincing her to let Ginny go anywhere with you, much less Australia, if she ever catches a look at that!" Blushing, Ginny and Harry straightened themselves out and tamed their hair before stepping out from behind the fern. Privately Harry doubted anything they had done to fix themselves up was going to fool Mrs Weasley because Ginny's lips were still swollen and she had a languid wanton air about her that he was sure no one could miss. He found himself unable to keep his hands off her and they wandered the room searching for her mother with arms around each other, Ginny stealing glances at Harry when he periodically kissed her cheek or hair.

They found Mrs Weasley and she did look at them with eyebrows raised. Harry looked suitably sheepish but Ginny just looked back at her imperiously and finally Mrs Weasley smiled.

"We're heading off now, your father and I," she said. "Can't keep up with you young ones." She smiled wistfully as she watched Neville and George, ably assisted by Lee and Dean, balancing several glasses in a pyramid on a nearby table. Seamus was waiting with a bottle of butterbeer to create a frothy fountain that filled all the glasses when the pyramid was finished.

"We'll see you at home, then," she suddenly sniffed and launched herself at Harry, enfolding him in a rib cracking hug. "We're so proud of you, dear. Look after my baby." And before Harry could hug her back she was gone, threading her way through the crowd to where Mr Weasley was waiting at the door.

It was quite some time later, after treating Ginny to his newly licensed skill of Apparition by taking her Side-Along, that Harry and Ginny stumbled through the back door of The Burrow with Ron and Hermione at their heels laughing and having had just a little too much Butterbeer.

They stumbled into chaos.


	13. Chapter 13

**Christening**

Mrs Weasley flew at them engulfing them one after the other in rib cracking hugs, sobbing loudly.

"Oh you're safe, you're alright," she wailed. "You are all right aren't you? All of you?" Harry nodded dumbly, gazing in horror at The Burrow's kitchen. The floor was strewn with broken crockery. Cutlery was thrown haphazardly around the room and the chairs and table were overturned. Three Aurors roamed the room making notes and taking pictures.

"What the bloody hell happened here?" demanded Ron. Charlie and Percy were standing in the doorway to the hallway and both of them shrugged.

"Was like this when we all got home," said Charlie. Harry noticed Ginny was pale and shaking and he put his arms around her instinctively.

"Where's George?" asked Hermione.

"Dunno," answered Charlie. "We were hoping he was with you lot." Mrs Weasley was staring anxiously out of the kitchen window as if that could make George appear. Mr Weasley came in the back door just then and proclaimed that all wards were intact and given the lack of damage to any of the outside doors they must have come through the Floo during the Ceremony.

"We're finished here now Mrs Weasley," said one of the Aurors. "Bad luck Arthur, hope there's nothing missing, they don't appear to have gone upstairs at all. You should be right to fix this up now. We'll be fixing the security on the other end of the Floo as soon as we go back through." The Aurors left through the Floo and Mrs Weasley picked up a chair and sank into it with a heavy sigh.

"What happened, dad?" asked Ron again.

"Death Eaters," grimaced Mr Weasley. Harry blanched and Hermione gasped.

"What?" barked Ron. "I thought we got rid of all those tosspots!"

"They have been mostly captured in the last three weeks but there are a couple still on the run," explained Mr Weasley. "They wanted to leave a warning." He thrust a sheet of Parchment at Ron.

"Bloody hell," whispered Ron, his face going white. Harry reached over and snatched it from Ron's grasp and promptly leaned over and retched when he saw what was written on the parchment.

_We'll get the rest of your brats, Weasley, and then we go after Potter._

Hermione and Ginny helped Harry into a chair while Ron cleaned up the vomit. Harry was shaking violently, Ginny not faring much better and Mrs Weasley was beginning to rock back and forth muttering about George and wringing her hands.

"Charlie, go and look for George. Percy, you go and fetch Bill. This is more important than forgotten silencing charms," ordered Mr Weasley quietly. They both nodded and hurried off, Ron in pursuit of Charlie. Hermione made tea that no one drank and Mr Weasley began setting the kitchen to rights while they waited for the boys to return.

**********************

"How can this happen?" whispered Harry after what seemed like hours. Bill and Fleur had returned and Fleur had made something to eat but no one had much of an appetite. George, Ron and Charlie had still not returned or sent any word and darkness was falling.

"He's supposed to be gone," said Hermione quietly. "I can't believe everything we've gone through to still be faced with this." The happiness Harry had felt that morning was easily dissipated. It almost felt as if Dementor had swept in and was hovering over them. Harry hadn't eaten a bite and he felt so cold. He began shivering, heedless of the concerned looks that Bill threw his way.

Suddenly there was a commotion at the door. It burst open to reveal three red headed men, the two on the outside supporting the one in the middle. Ron and Charlie dragged George into the room between them. All three of them were covered in blood, but George appeared to be unconscious.

"Him and Lee together with Neville, Dean and Seamus took _Dennis Creevey _out for some Firewhisky," Charlie puffed as he hefted George through to the living room. "I have no _idea_ what they could possibly have been thinking. Nutters the lot of them. And as for Aberforth, he's not blameless in this either!" He and Ron dropped George on the couch and Mrs Weasley flew over.

"It's just superficial mum, he's not bleeding much," said Ron. "He got knocked out though, tripped over a tree root, the silly git. I could use a few healing spells here though." Ron exposed his arm, a deep cut ran the length of it and Mrs Weasley and Hermione cried out in alarm.

"What in the blazes _happened_ to you!" bellowed Mr Weasley. "You've been gone for hours, you send no word and you turn up bleeding with George unconscious! Where on earth have you been and what have you been up to?" George began to stir. Mrs Weasley and Hermione tended to Ron's wounds, and George, as he came around, while Charlie explained what had happened.

He and Ron went back to the Ministry and found the place in an uproar. Two Death Eaters had apparently Flooed back in and tried to blast their way out of the still crowded Atrium. One had been captured but the other escaped. Tracking down Cho, the last remaining DA member in the Banquet Room, they found out where George and the others had gone. Unfortunately Cho had already given that information to a mysterious stranger.

"She's been more trouble than she's worth, that one!" exclaimed Ron. Ginny growled. "Honestly you'd think she could tell what a Death Eater looked like by now. Well, we hot footed it to Hogsmeade of course, found The Hogs Head full of spell fire. If that lot hadn't been drunk they could have fought off our old friend but he'd pinned them behind the bar the dozy gits."

"Wasn't expecting Ron though," said Charlie, pride in his voice, "took him down with one hex, sent him flying through the window!"

"Yeah, had the unfortunate effect of sending a piece of flying glass at me though," winced Ron as Hermione continued to clean his wound. "Aberforth thought it would be a good idea to charm the windows so that if someone goes flying out of one, all the glass comes flying straight back inside and reforms back into the frame. You stand too close to one when you send someone flying through it and manage to get in the way of reforming glass and you end up like this."

"So you're all okay then? Nobody got hurt apart from that?" demanded Mrs Weasley.

"No, the blood on me is all Ron's and George here is banged up only because he was too drunk to walk straight and as we tried to get him home he lurched off into the Forest and fell over," explained Charlie.

"The Aurors came and took away the Death Eater. They interrogated the other one and turns out they were the ones here. Kingsley reckons they are both a bit deranged," said Ron. "Says there's no more Death Eaters out there either. They were the last two known ones. Trials start now though."

"We had to Apparate Dean, Seamus and Dennis home and deal with their very irate mothers," Charlie continued. "Angelina's got a bigger temper than Lee's mum." He shuddered.

"Angelina?" asked Ginny.

"Yeah, apparently they are an 'item' now. She's not a fan of drunk Lee," Charlie confessed. "By the time we finished all that, George here had drunk Aberforth under the table."

The family sat there in silence while Mrs Weasley dotted dittany on the scrapes on George's face and Hermione bandaged Ron's arm to protect the new skin that was forming over his cut. Harry closed his eyes and let out a deep breath as Charlie and Ron finished their stories.

He snapped his eyes back open as the flashes of green returned and the glowing red eyes leered at him.

"Are you all right, Harry?" asked Ginny softly. Wordlessly Harry nodded, avoiding Bill's gaze. Mrs Weasley chivvied them off to bed only moments later and while Ron fell asleep immediately his head hit the pillow, Harry sat huddled against the wall by his bed, staring into the darkness far too afraid to close his eyes.

*********************

Panting and soaked with sweat, Harry shot upright in bed, the sheet tangled around his legs. He thrashed about, the feeling of being trapped was pressing down on him and he leaned over the side of the bed as that very thought made him violently ill. A hand was rubbing his back and a soft voice whispering something to him; a cool flannel was pressed to his forehead and a glass of water thrust into his shaking hands.

Harry looked up into Bill's concerned face as he gulped the water down. Bill vanished the vomit from the floor and took the glass, setting it on the windowsill. Harry let the tears slip from his eyes and slide down his cheeks as Bill gathered him in a hug to rival one of Mrs Weasley's. Harry didn't care that it was Bill; that he was crying on another man's shoulder. He thought vaguely that it should feel a bit weird but it didn't.

"I told you to tell us, kid," Bill was whispering. "If you're feeling bad, tell us, we can help." Harry sniffed and pulled himself off Bill, sitting upright in the bed.

"How did you know? Was I screaming out or something?"

"No. I saw you, downstairs, and I knew that something was bothering you," replied Bill. "I could tell so I came and sat with you because you lied. You told Ginny you were all right. I knew you weren't, she knew you weren't. The only reason I'm here and not her is because I sent her to bed half an hour ago." Harry let out a shuddering sigh. His nightmares were back and he was too afraid to sleep. He thought the nightmares were behind him but clearly they weren't.

Bill pressed a Dreamless Sleep Potion into his hands. Harry drank it and sank back onto his pillow as Bill pulled the covers up around his shoulders and stroked his hair until he fell asleep.

**********************

It was a very pale Harry who made his way down the stairs for breakfast the next morning. Despite the Dreamless Sleep Potion he hadn't actually slept much after staying awake half the night to avoid nightmares. Dark smudges sat under his eyes and his feet felt heavy as he plodded down the stairs. Mrs Weasley inspected him carefully, feeling his forehead and peering into his eyes before pushing him into a seat and giving him a heaped pile of bacon and eggs. He felt numb and more than a little bit detatched.

And then Ginny was there. He watched as she twirled into the room, her hair flying as she danced away from Charlie and his teasing. He watched her as she greeted her mother good morning with a kiss and settled herself next to him and her kiss on his cheek seemed to break the silence and thaw his soul. The kitchen came back to life and time began again. Harry reached for her and held onto her as the dam broke again and he cried. He had absolutely no idea why he was crying he thought he'd moved beyond that now. He'd buried the dead and sorted things out – he found the happiness – so he had no idea what was happening now.

But nobody moved to accuse him of not holding it together, to tease him or mock him. Ginny simply held him as he cried and when he finished Charlie handed him a clean handkerchief and Mrs Weasley gave him a fresh plate of piping hot eggs and bacon and patted him on the cheek. He spent the day sitting in the living room with Ginny, talking quietly or dozing, his head in her lap.

The following days passed in a similar fashion. He would fight nightmares at night, eat breakfast in the mornings and then spend the day quietly with Ginny. Sometimes Ron and Hermione would join them and Harry played chess with Ron. Once they all went swimming with George down at the pond and Harry even laughed as they splashed about. Mrs Weasley spent her days making his favourite foods and doing his washing. Mr Weasley brought him Muggle appliances and pieces of the flying motorcycle and asked him to explain what they were for (he never did quite manage to convince Mr Weasley that a CD could store music) and Bill and Fleur stayed until Harry's nightmares stopped.

Percy kept them all updated on the trials that were held daily at the Ministry. The day he brought home the news that Dolores Umbridge had been imprisoned for her crimes against Muggleborns George declared it Justice Day and that night set off a series of Red and Gold fireworks over Fred's grave.

The day Percy told them that the Malfoys had weaseled their way out of Azkaban by proving collusion with Harry at the end of the battle George declared it Ponce Day and spent the night in his room devising a new series of confectionery that he sent to Malfoy Manor and refused to tell anyone what they would do. Rumour had it that Draco and his father spent a good three weeks in St Mungos but it was largely unconfirmed.

Harry sent a statement about Narcissa's actions at Kingsley's request and the Wizengamot called Hagrid in to testify as the only alive and non incarcerated witness to Harry's 'death'. Fleur expressed, loudly, the opinion that Hagrid had bollixed it up.

"Hey Hagrid's all right!" Ron protested.

"Yeah, it isn't his fault," Harry said staunchly, glaring at Fleur.

"Anyway, _Harry_ sent the statement about Mrs Malfoy," Ron said. He turned to Harry. "What was in your statement anyway?"

"Look, she saved my life in the end," Harry said wearily.

"But how'd it get off her little Death Eater family?" Ron asked angrily. "What'd you put in it to let that happen?"

"Nothing!" Harry exclaimed indignantly. "I didn't do it to get Lucius Malfoy off of anything!"

"Same effect though," grumbled Ron.

"I can't control all the little things Lucius Malfoy takes advantage of, Ron," argued Harry.

"So you agree he took advantage of _your_ statement?"

"Look, it's possible, all right?" Harry sighed. "Just like it's possible Mrs Malfoy sided with me, however briefly."

"Well …"

"Just let it go," Harry pleaded. "We don't need this. It doesn't make us any better than Voldemort."

The day after the Malfoy trial a haughty looking owl delivered a package to The Burrow. It contained Ron and Hermione's wands. Ron pocketed his wand gratefully.

"I suppose if Malfoy can let it go, I can let it go," Ron conceded. "But no one had better make me talk to the git."

Charlie went back to Romania at the end of June.

"Bye Mum," he said patting his mother on the back as she released a fresh flood of tears all over him. He turned to Ginny and squeezed her tightly. "Seeya Squirt."

"I'm not a squirt," grumbled Ginny but Harry saw her cling a little tighter to her older brother for a moment longer. Charlie shook Percy's and his father's hands.

"Take Care, son," murmured Mr Weasley, communicating without words. Charlie nodded in response and Harry wondered what it would be like to have that sort of unspoken relationship with your father. Charlie moved to Hermione, kissing her cheek and then gave Ron and George back slapping hugs. When he pulled Harry into a hug he whispered in his ear.

"Take care of the squirt, if you need anything, just owl." And then he Disapparated with a short wave. Mrs Weasely spent the rest of the day cooking everyone's favourite foods and feeding them. As he ate his fourth serving of treacle tart, Harry contemplated that this is what made Mrs Weasely feel better, make sure everyone else was all right. Percy went back to his own flat a few days later with a much more reserved and handshake heavy farewell.

The days marched on relentlessly to July, there were strange explosions coming from George's room, Ron, Harry and Ginny flew around the orchard after raiding the broomshed while Hermione sat underneath the apple tree and read from Seventh Year textbooks and the ghoul began rattling his chains again. Hermione filed the extra travel paperwork. Mr Weasley had convinced Mrs Weasley to let Ginny go with them.

"I reckon that Dad just reminded Mum that if Ginny's not here, they won't have to remember the silencing charms," Ron said slyly on the afternoon Mrs Weasley gave her permission for Ginny to go to Australia with the rest of them.

"Ron!" exclaimed a red faced Hermione, slapping him on the arm.

"You could be right," Ginny chuckled slyly. Harry just shook his head; it wasn't something he wanted to spend his time thinking about.

After a week and a half of very little exertion and complete pampering at the hands of Mrs Weasley Harry was almost feeling like his old self when a flurry of owls caused excitement levels to rise at the Burrow. The first owl, bearing _The Dialy Prophet_ aggressively demanded its payment, pecking at Harry's hand repeatedly until he managed to extract the right coins from his pocket.

The wizarding newspaper declared that Kingsley had been made the permanent Minister of Magic and contained an announcement that Hogwarts was to reopen as usual on September first. Students could expect their Hogwarts letters within the next few weeks. Hermione squealed and began dancing around the kitchen while Ron smiled at her indulgently. Mrs Weasley divested an owl of an official looking envelope which turned out to be an invitation to Teddy Lupin's Christening on July 5th, less than a week away.

"He's not Christened yet?" asked Harry.

"No, they were going to do it next time it was safe to contact you," Mrs Weasley explained. "That time never really came I suppose. It was going to be a quiet affair, a bit secret really, especially with his godfather having a price on his head. I expect Andromeda wants to make a big fuss now there's no reason not to." Mrs Weasley looked at the invitation in her hands rather wistfully. Harry opened his own envelope from Andromeda which included a letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_I have gone ahead and arranged Teddy's Christening. I hope you don't mind. I'm sorry the notice is short but this is the little church Dora was christened at and the only date free before you return to Hogwarts. It is to be a small affair but if there is anyone you wish to invite, let me know. Molly told me you'd been under some strain these past few days when I contacted her to see why you'd not been to visit. That nice Neville Longbottom has been around a couple of times though. I invited him to the Christening. He seems to be quite attached to little Ted._

_I do hope you are feeling better these days and please, come over as soon as you can. I know Teddy misses you._

_Yours, Andromeda. _

Harry felt suddenly terribly guilty. He'd been so tied up in his own thoughts that he'd not made the time or found the energy to go and see Teddy. He'd be back at school soon and his chances to see him would dwindle. Ron was still eating breakfast and Mrs Weasley, Hermione and Ginny were contemplating what to wear to the Christening and if they had the time or the funds to get something new. Making a decision he abruptly pulled out his Gringotts key and tossed it onto the table.

"Funds," he said briefly, as he got up. "I'm going to see Teddy today. Just keep Ron away from my family jewels!" Ginny snickered. Ron stopped eating long enough to make a rude hand gesture at Harry.

"How many times Ronald Weasley? I will not tell you again! If I see that one more time I'll jinx your fingers together!" his mother shouted at him before turning on Harry. "And what do you think you're doing?" Harry crossed his arms and simply looked at her.

"I'm dragging myself out of the pit of misery I've been wallowing in," he said. "I've been so busy indulging in my own grief that I forgot I even had a responsibility to Teddy. Sirius went after Pettigrew so that he could avenge my parents and it kept him from me. Remus spent his time in seclusion and despair instead of with me. Teddy needs me. He's got his grandmother but he needs me too. At least Neville remembered that." Mrs Weasley studied him silently for a moment before speaking.

"I'm glad you've worked that out dear," she said with a smile. "I told Andromeda it wouldn't be long. I was actually referring to this dear." And she waved his Gringotts key at him.

"Oh, don't worry. You won't have any problem making a withdrawal. I had Bill set it up so Ginny could use it," Harry stopped abruptly, blushing as Ron's jaw dropped. Harry shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "Please don't say you can't accept it. When was the last time any of you had something new? You all do so many things for me and … please?" Mrs Weasley's face softened.

"Well just this once," she eventually said.

"Good, that's settled then," said Harry. "I'm going to change and Floo over to see Teddy. I'll be back for dinner."

"Can I get a new broom, Harry?" called Ron cheekily to his retreating back. Harry answered with a rude hand gesture and Mrs Weasley began to berate Ron for being so incredibly rude.

"How come he doesn't get his fingers jinxed together and I'm the one who gets into trouble?" Ron's indignant voice came wafting up the stairs. "George was right! He is your favourite!" Harry laughed. It was good to be with family.

Harry changed quickly and headed back downstairs to Floo to Andromeda's. He found Ginny alone in the kitchen washing up and staring out the window as if in a trance. He came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist, kissing her on the side of the neck. She tilted her head to give him better access and he continued to press soft kisses along the side of her neck and behind her ear.

"Why did you do that, Harry?" she suddenly asked, still looking out of the window. Harry froze.

"Do what, exactly? I've done a lot of things …" he trailed off. It had sounded far more amusing in his head. Ginny turned in his grasp and fixed her gaze somewhere over his left shoulder.

"Set your key up like that," was all she said. Harry pulled away from her, his arms dropping to his sides.

"Why are you asking?"

"Because I want to know," said Ginny evasively.

"Do you have a problem with it?"

"No." Ginny shook her head.

"So, who cares why?" Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned away to study the coat rack just inside the back door.

"I want to understand," was the only reply he got. Slowly he turned around. She had turned back to the washing up and was slowly dragging a cloth over a plate.

"Because you are everything," he said. He took a step back towards her. "I feel more … complete with you. It's like not being with you just means I have to get back to you. It matters to me how you are … I want you to be happy – "

"Oh and you think money will make me happy?" Ginny slapped a large pan forcefully into the sink and it made a satisfying smacking sound as it hit the water.

"No!" said Harry fiercely. "My life isn't complete without you. So if you're not happy … well that matters to me. And you … need to be involved. You're happiest when I share parts of me with you." Ginny turned to look at him.

"Harry-"

"And this is part of me. If I don't share all of me with you, why share anything at all?" Harry continued. "That day the Death Eaters came I got so panicked but I didn't tell you. Bill told me that I _lied_ to you and I did. I said I was fine and I wasn't at all. I'm sorry.

"I'm sorry I didn't apologise before now. It made me think though. I don't want to lie to you; I want you to know all of me, every part. Keeping something from you, anything, even my vault, isn't doing that. My whole life is open to you. I belong to _you_. Keeping anything back … keeping something apart from you isn't … it won't … what's mine is yours." Harry took another step forward and shrugged. "It's not about the fact that there's money in there … so I got Bill to fix it so you had access." Ginny stared at him. He felt pinned under her gaze.

"I don't care if you never touch it or if you spend it all," he said as he reached out and took her wet, soapy hand. "I love you. This is because I love you." Harry looked into her eyes and felt himself caught up in eternity as he stared into their depths. Slowly he lowered his face towards her and her eyes slid shut and her soft pink lips parted ever so slightly. As he looked at the lashes splayed across her cheeks and the freckles dusting across her nose he could smell that unique flowery scent that was Ginny and as he lowered his lips to hers he whispered, "With all my heart."

Harry heard the door creak open as someone came in from the hallway just as he slid an arm around Ginny's waist and pulled her towards him, running his tongue along her bottom lip as he did so. Her lips parted and he deepened the kiss before a discreet cough made him pull reluctantly away. Ginny, her eyes still closed, leaned into him, laying her head on his chest and Harry looked up to see Ron with his hand on the door handle obviously trying very hard not to take the mickey out of them. He was turning purple with the effort.

"Just saying goodbye, Ron," said Harry. "Will words do for you or would you like the same sort of goodbye?" Harry could feel Ginny shaking with laughter against his chest as Ron backed out muttering something about randy gits. Harry looked down at the beautiful woman in his arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I should get going," he said reluctantly. "I'll see you tonight. Have fun, okay? Oh, and you look divine in green." He winked at her and released her going to the fireplace and grabbing some Floo powder from the pot on the mantelpiece.

"Harry," Ginny stopped him. He turned around. "I love you too." Harry smiled and gave her a little wave as he whirled out of sight and past the all the fireplaces to come tumbling out at Andromeda's house.

He found Andromeda walking a screaming Teddy up and down the hallway, toys strewn all over the floor and the kitchen a mess. It was extremely unusual.

"Oh, Harry, lovely to see you dear," she said tiredly when she saw him stepping out of the kitchen hearth. "Sorry about the mess." She gestured vaguely at the room and resumed ineffectively patting Teddy on the back and his screams seemed to grow even louder. Harry was at a complete loss but he could tell that Andromeda was nearly out on her feet so he decided to take Teddy and he pulled out a chair for Andromeda to sit in.

Teddy quieted for a brief moment when Harry took him and he took that opportunity to set the kettle and begin making some tea – which was no mean feat one handed. Teddy began squalling again within minutes.

"Hey, little guy," soothed Harry. "What's wrong? Bad hair day? I know, I get them a lot. I'm not sure fuchsia is your colour you know." Teddy did not stop crying. Andromeda let out a big sigh as Harry inelegantly plunked mug of tea in front of her on the table.

"I don't know why he's crying. He's been doing it for hours," she sounded on the verge of tears herself. "I know babies do that sometimes it's just, well … hard." Harry reached over and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.

"Listen, I think you need a long break," he began. "I'm sorry I haven't been around much. It must be so hard …" he trailed off feeling completely inadequate. Andromeda looked up at him as she sipped her tea. Teddy seemed to be running out of steam he began sobbing quietly and hiccupping his tiny fists grabbing handfuls of Harry's shirt.

"I'm too old for this," she muttered. "How can I possibly be the best person to look after him? Look at me, I'm all alone and this place is a mess. You'd think I'd know something about looking after a baby! But the poor soul has been crying for hours and I don't even know how to fix it."

"You are the best person to look after Teddy," said Harry softly, the baby beginning to snore quietly on his shoulder. "You're his family and you love him. And you don't have to do it on your own. I know I was a bit preoccupied, but Mrs Weasley said you called – why didn't you ask her for help? Please, call us if you need help. Don't ever, ever think you're alone." Andromeda laid her head down on the table and cried while Harry rocked the slumbering Teddy in one arm and patted her back with the other. After a few minutes she straightened up and looked at Harry.

"You must think I'm a silly old woman, sobbing about the place, unable to even keep the house straight," she said. "Well, best get on I suppose, that is if you don't mind watching young Ted for a bit?"

"Get on? To where?" demanded Harry. "You're not going to clean this place up; you're going for a nice, long nap."

"Oh really?" snapped Andromeda. "And who exactly will clean this place up then?"

"Kreacher!"

"You're _JOKING_!" Andromeda gazed at him in horror. "That foul, loathsome little b-" Kreacher arrived in the kitchen with a loud crack.

"Yes, Master Harry?" Harry ignored the disgusted look Andromeda was throwing his way.

"Kreacher, your services are needed here, I won't be going back to Grimmauld Place any time soon, and well, Andromeda needs some help here for a bit," explained Harry. Andromeda shot him a filthy look.

"I can't believe you-"

"Always willing to serve a member of the Great and Noble House of Black," said Kreacher, bowing so low his nose swept the floor.

"Please, Andromeda," pleaded Harry. "Kreacher's not so bad. He's changed a bit lately. See he's even overlooking the whole disowning thing. You need the help. I'm going to Australia soon and then back to Hogwarts in a couple of months. I don't need Kreacher but you do. Please." Kreacher had already started to straighten out the kitchen and Andromeda let out a long sigh, knowing she was defeated.

"Now, pack some things for Teddy. Let me take him for a holiday at The Burrow. Mrs Weasley would love the chance to fuss over him and Ron won't admit it, but so would he," said Harry. "You can come and collect him when you're rested – take as long as you need." Andromeda looked at him warily.

"Well, I suppose if Molly's going to be there…" Harry smiled and Andromeda sighed as she got up, ruffling his hair as she passed. "You're a good man, Harry Potter."

*********************

Harry finally heard a commotion in the kitchen and happy laughing voices drift up the stairs. He sent up a silent prayer of thanks to whichever deity was listening. Carefully carrying his precious cargo he hastened down the stairs and burst into the kitchen to find Ron, Hermione and Ginny stacking all sorts of parcels on the table.

"Where's Mum?" he demanded desperately over the extremely loud screaming emanating from Teddy.

"She's stopped off to have a bite of lunch with dad, we came on home 'cause we couldn't bear to watch them making eyes at each other any longer," Ron shouted, shuddering. "Why is the midget squawking like that?"

"I don't know, Ron!" said Harry exasperatedly, as Ron took the infant from his arms. "Don't you think if I knew I would do something to stop him?" Harry immediately headed to the pantry to fix himself a sandwich. As he gulped it down rapidly Teddy was passed from Ron to Hermione to Ginny but did not stop screaming for any of them.

"Why is Teddy here?" asked Ginny as she tried desperately to soothe him and he screwed up his face in response and wailed louder.

"I'd say because his Gran has gone insane with that caterwauling," shouted Ron in disgust. "Trying to send us all barmy as well is she?"

"She's exhausted," explained Harry taking Teddy from Ginny's grasp and attempting to rock him. "I brought Teddy here for a day or two so she can get some rest. I sent Kreacher there to help sort things out. She's not been coping."

"Well, how are we meant to cope?" demanded Ron.

"Well, for a start there are more of us than there are of her!" retorted Harry. Teddy reacted badly to the raised voices and began to scream even louder, something Harry had not thought possible.

"Has he been fed? Changed his nappy?" asked Hermione briskly. "What about sleep? Maybe he's sleepy? If he's fed and clean then what else is there?" Harry simply rolled his eyes.

"He might be in pain," Ginny said softly as she ran her hand over Teddy's downy little head. He gazed back at her miserably, his lip trembling as if threatening to unleash a fresh assault on their eardrums. Ginny continued to stroke his head as Harry rocked him while snuggling the baby against his chest and Teddy's eyes slowly slipped shut.

Harry looked up to find Ron looking at him and Ginny with an odd wistful look on his face. He raised an eyebrow in question but Ron merely shrugged. Harry began to breathe a little easier as Teddy appeared to fall into a fitful, but quiet slumber and he eased into a chair, careful not to jostle Teddy at all. He sat there, Teddy cuddled up on his chest and Ginny standing behind him, stroking her hands through his hair and easing the tension that had built up after a morning of infant wailing.

There was only a few moments respite however as Mrs Weasley came out of the Floo not long afterwards, dropping a number of parcels on the hearth, knocking over the fire irons and stumbling into a chair.

"Oh goodness, I'm not normally so inelegant," she muttered. "I must not let Arthur order so much butterbeer next time." She looked up startled as Teddy started up his monologue of wailing. Harry winced and struggled to his feet to begin pacing. Mrs Weasley, abandoning her parcels, hurried over to him.

"Goodness, what _are _you doing to that poor child, Harry dear?"

"It's not _me_," said Harry in exasperation. "It's _him_. He won't stop. He's barely stopped all day and he's been going half the night!"

"Oh dear, poor Andromeda," tutted Mrs Weasley as she expertly took Teddy from Harry's grasp.

"That's why he's here. She needs a break," Harry explained. "It seemed like a good idea until I figured out that I have absolutely no idea how to deal with him." Mrs Weasely smiled fondly at him.

"Not to worry dear. I'm sure we can figure something out." Sure enough, before long Mrs Weasley had Teddy clean, fed and wrapped snugly, sleeping in the cradle that had belonged to George, Ron and Ginny. Harry shook his head wonderingly as he gazed at Teddy's peaceful face.

"How did you do that?" he breathed.

"Years of practice dear," she smiled. She looked at Teddy wistfully. "I know my last baby is nearly seventeen now but after seven babies, you don't forget some things. Fred was my screamer, you know. He cried all day and all night for a week when he was Ted's age. I thought we were all going to go mad. I think Bill and Charlie looked after George that entire week really. Bill was only seven so I'm not sure how George survived." Mrs Weasley had a faraway look on her face and a lone tear slid down her cheek as she thought about her twin babies, one of whom was now lost. She seemed to pull herself together as she wiped the tear from her cheek.

"I just did for Teddy what I eventually figured out worked for Fred. We're just lucky it worked on a different baby," she sighed. "They are all so different. No two are alike, even when they are identical twins. Now, let's get on and see about dinner. I'll just pop over and make sure Andromeda is all right for a meal, she must have been exhausted."

"Kreacher's there," said Harry absently, watching Teddy sleep. He suddenly found himself engulfed in one of Mrs Weasley's rib cracking hugs. As Mrs Weasley pulled away he looked at her in confusion.

"What was that for? I brought a wailing infant into your home, without asking you first, expected you to work a miracle on him and you give me a hug?"

"Oh Harry dear, you just don't know how wonderful you are, do you?" Mrs Weasley's eyes shone as she looked at him. Harry's was confused but he got no explanation as Ron chose that moment to enter the kitchen and his mother shushed him hurriedly before moving Teddy into the living room.

"Blimey, at least she got him sorted out. Kid's got a set of lungs on him I'll give him that," said Ron. "Those girls are giggling up in Ginny's room. I hate to contemplate what they are doing. You just be thankful you didn't have to endure the fashion parade today. I managed to slip away after a bit and help George fix up the shop a bit more but blimey, girls can shop!" Harry's shoulders shook with laughter as Ron continued his monologue about girls fussing over books and pet shop windows and taking forever to decide ice cream flavours but completely missing the point about broomsticks.

"There's a new broomstick in the window at Quality Quidditch Supplies. I think it's a new Firebolt model," Ron paused. "Ginny seemed to care, but then Hermione dragged her away to look at some ruddy pink quill! You have got to come next time. We'll leave Hermione in Flourish and Blotts and us three'll go to check out Quidditch gear."

"Well I guess that'll be when we get our Hogwarts letters," said Harry. "Well, not that you're going, I 'spect you'll be at the shop anyway if students are buying school stuff. It's going to be weird at Hogwarts without you …" he trailed off.

"We'll still see each other though," said Ron hurriedly. "Hogsmeade weekends, and I'll come to every Quidditch match for sure. I can't imagine you'll be stuck at Hogwarts though to be honest. Of age, and Harry Potter to boot? You'd be able to get out, no worries, any time you want."

"Already can, or had you forgotten I've been doing that since I got there? Not allowed in the third floor corridor due to enormous three headed dog? Grab your flute and head on down anyway. Damsel in distress? Follow the underground chamber only two people can open. Didn't get your form signed to visit the village? Put on your Invisibility Cloak and go underground to Honeydukes. Need to chase a dog? No problem there's a secret passage to the Shrieking Shack. Mega dangerous tournament? Not an issue, just portkey on out," Harry grimaced. "Not that that one was voluntary, but still … need to rescue an escaped convict? Jump on a Thestral! To get back in? Just fly over the gates. Nah mate, I don't think I've ever stayed within accepted boundaries."

"Always a first time, mate. Make it a goal," said Ron slapping him on the shoulder. "Bit of a troublemaker aren't you?

" Oh yeah speaking of letters, in all the excitement this morning seems we overlooked this one. It's for you, from Kingsley." Ron took a letter down from the mantelpiece. Harry took the letter, turning it over in his hands to break the seal. He read the contents and then looked up into Ron's expectant gaze.

"No one's claimed Snape's body. Kingsley wants to know if I want to claim it or if they should give him a quick Ministry burial."

"What are you going to do?"

"Claim it."

*****************

Teddy stayed three nights at The Burrow. Mrs Weasley's experienced hand seemed to settle him as much as the techniques she used to stop him crying. She showed Harry how to carry him 'just so' to ease what was probably some sort of tummy or wind pain and how to wrap and soothe him so that he felt warm and safe. It was tricky to remember how to do it all at three o'clock in the morning but Harry was determined not to put anybody out with his decision to bring home a squalling infant and he got up to him every time he cried at night.

By the end of Teddy's stay Harry knew exactly why Andromeda had looked such a wreck the morning he had flooed in and when she came to pick Teddy up he made her promise to keep Kreacher as long as she needed him before heading up to his bed, intending to sleep for a week.

The day of Teddy's Christening dawned bright and clear and that afternoon, running late, Harry thumped down the stairs, bumping into Mr Weasley as he came through the doorway at a run.

"Ah, there you are Harry, was just coming looking for you!" sad Mr Weasley.

"Ron, thanks for hogging the bathroom, mate. I love a cold shower," Harry said sourly.

"Thought you needed one mate," said Ron cheerily. Harry simply glowered at him.

"Come on, come on, that's enough, boys," fussed Mrs Weasley. "It won't do for you to be late, Harry dear. Now, are you sure you are okay to Apparate there?"

"Yes thanks Mrs Weasley," said Harry. "You look very nice by the way." Mrs Weasley beamed at hm.

"Thank you dear." Harry knew she did not mean only for the compliment. That's when Harry took a proper look at the kitchen's occupants and saw Hermione in a new floaty sort of creation in a very soft pink and Ginny, perched on the edge of the table in some truly breathtaking pale green robes. She was talking animatedly with George and must have felt Harry's eyes on her because she suddenly turned and smiled at him. Harry moved towards her compelled by some unseen force, but he didn't resist it. Reaching out a hand to her he leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek.

"You look beautiful," he breathed close to her ear. She put her hands on his chest and gazed up at him before reaching up to try and fix his hair. Her hand trailed down his jaw and her eyes feasted on his lips before she adjusted his collar and his tie. Harry reached up a hand to tuck a piece of flyaway hair behind her ear and then his fingers left a trail down her neck and across her shoulder and he slid his arm down to take her hand in his. He was happy just to look at her, to be the one holding her hand. Ginny looked back into his eyes and he felt himself mesmerised by them.

"Oi! If you two stop preening each other we can get going!" Ron was watching them exasperatedly. Harry grinned at him before hurrying out the door behind Mr Weasley so he could Apparate to the little church near Andromeda's house.

"Why can't I go with Harry?" asked Ginny as her father prepared to Side-Along Apparate her.

"He only just got his licence! He can't possibly Side-Along anyone!"

"Dad, he did it the other day! Harry's been able to Side-Along Apparate people since before he was seventeen," snorted Ron. Mr Weasley looked stunned.

"Who on earth would be foolish enough to let an unlicensed sixteen year old Apparate them?" barked Mrs Weasley, clearly she suspected Ron would.

"Professor Dumbledore," muttered Harry, irritated. Mr and Mrs Weasley fell silent and Harry, feeling conspicuous under their gaze simply mumbled that he would see them all there and Apparated away quickly.

His part in the Christening dictated that Harry did not sit with the Weasleys so he did not speak to them again until after the service. The incident before they left had put him a little off kilter but holding Teddy, dressed in an antique Christening gown that had belonged to Ted Tonks's Muggle family made him feel a little more balanced and he began to relax.

"Ted's family was quite religious you know," said Andromeda as they sat near the front, waiting for the service to begin. "A couple of his cousins have come today, ones that understand the magical world – there's no way I can disguise that hair!" Harry grinned as Teddy blew bubbles and turned his previously turquoise hair black like Harry's. Andromeda went on to explain how some Muggleborns combined their Muggle church heritage with their magical world so there were a few churches around where the priests and pastors were able to perform the religious rites for wizarding children.

This satisfied the curiosity Harry had about his own Christening and the completely secular nature of Dumbledore's funeral and Bill's wedding which had been performed by wizarding officials. With a Muggleborn mother he'd had access to Muggle church rituals as did little Teddy.

"Dora and Remus didn't name any other godparents, so it's just you," explained Andromeda as she gave him the service sheet that indicated his part in the service. Harry saw the Weasleys and Hermione file into the church and sit with Bill and Fleur just before the pastor began the Christening. He wondered vaguely what had kept them as he'd Disapparated a good twenty minutes earlier but his involvement in the ceremony distracted him and he turned his full attention to Teddy.

Without the presence of Teddy's parents, Harry alone presented him for the Christening rite, Andromeda declining to stand in for her daughter and son in law, sitting quietly and shedding a few silent tears that they had missed this. Harry made a promise then to always be there for every big moment and lots of small moments in Teddy's life. He couldn't afford to wallow in depression; he felt an undeniable need to make sure Teddy's life was free from the miseries that he'd experienced. As he took part in the Christening ceremony the promise was cemented.

Harry didn't have much experience with churches and God but as he promised the rites of the church he applied them equally to the wizarding community.

"Will you pray for him, draw him by our example into the community of faith and walk with him in the way of Christ?" intoned the pastor. As Harry answered that he would, he applied that to providing for Teddy examples of being a good man, the sort of man his father had been, how Remus would have showed him how to be a good man if he had lived, and a lone tear rolled down Harry's cheek, splashing into the delicate, yellowing lace of the Christening gown as he vowed in his heart to always walk with Teddy in the wizarding community which he himself had been denied for so long.

"Will you care for him and help him take his place within the life and worship of Christ's Church?" droned the pastor. Harry said that he would, at the same time he gazed at Teddy and vowed to help him find and take his place as a wizard and know about his family. In his mind he promised Sirius that he'd be a better godfather than him and he rather felt that he heard Sirius laughing and possibly his dad and Remus joining in. The thought made him smile as he silently promised Teddy that he'd always be there for him, for anything.

The pastor baptised Teddy and pronounced blessings on him that Harry was not really aware of, his thoughts now turning to Ginny as he watched her, sitting quietly with her family. She smiled up at him and he smiled back. When the service was over and the pictures taken, the flash going off reminding Harry of Colin but the feeling was not sad or panicky for once but a warm memory, Harry took his godson over to see Ginny. He turned his hair red when he saw Ginny and neither of them saw Mrs Weasley looking at them fondly as they fussed over the infant in Ginny's arms. Harry slipped an arm around Ginny's slender waist and leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear. "I shouldn't have left like that; it was a bit rude of me. I just-"

"It's okay, Harry," interrupted Ginny. "We understand. You should have heard Ron go off at Mum and Dad. I think he ranted for a good fifteen minutes! Hermione had to threaten to hex him to get him to stop."

"What did he say?" asked Harry curiously as he tickled Teddy's tummy.

"Some pretty choice words about being polite and it wasn't the Done Thing to question the skills of Harry Potter," Ginny giggled. "It was quite funny actually. Mum just stood there with her mouth opening and closing like a fish and dad sort of stared at him like he had two heads. Then Ron went off on a tangent about how it wasn't smart to question your abilities if they want the house to remain standing because he's seen you get when you're angry and if they're going to set you off while you're still … well, a bit upset from the 'whole war thing', they could have a major magical catastrophe on their hands." Harry looked startled.

"What does he mean I'm a 'bit upset'?" demanded Harry. Ginny shrugged.

"Well you are," she said. "It's not like we haven't seen you moody before, no one cares, but your moods do swing a bit suddenly at the moment." Ginny looked at him apologetically. Harry felt defensive and crossed his arms over his chest. Ginny put a hand softly on his arm and went on. "And that's okay. Anyway he got into full stride and started going on about all sorts of odd things that no one quite got the gist of. I think he was basically saying they have to remember you're an adult and extremely powerful and use a lot more tact, or something. I'm not really sure. That's when Hermione threatened to hex him."

"What's this extremely powerful rubbish?" scoffed Harry, still defensive.

"Oh come on Harry, you know you are," snapped Ginny. She began to walk away as Teddy, sensing the argument, began to fret. Harry followed her, watching as she handed the baby to Andromeda. Ginny turned back to him.

"No, I'm not," he whispered fiercely at her, a grim smile plastered on his face as he waved at Hagrid who was stuck outside, a little too big to get in through the doors and had watched the Christening through a window specially modified for the day.

"Oh you are so, stop being difficult," sighed Ginny. "Do all thirteen year olds conjure fully corporeal Patronuses? Do fourteen year olds win Triwizard Tournaments?"

"Crouch fixed that! And what about Cedric?" snapped Harry. Ginny barked a short burst of laughter.

"Well, that just proves my point. He was seventeen! You totally matched him," said Ginny exasperatedly. "You learned all those spells on your own. How many people can summon something with _Accio_ from the castle to the Forest? I can barely get something across the classroom most days!" Harry was still looking at her grimly, his eyes narrowed. Folding her arms across her own chest she narrowed her eyes right back at him. Harry tried not to notice what that did to rearrange her chest and how beautiful she was when she was flushed. He forced his mind back to what she was saying.

"Most of us can't fight off possession by evil wizards," she hissed. Harry blanched. "Other people get him in their head and he takes over. _You_ on the other hand are strong enough and powerful enough to put up with him in your head and throw him out if you so choose." She broke off and looked at him for a long moment before turning and stomping off.

Harry watched her retreating back in a daze, her slim ankles showing beneath the hem of her robes which clung to her in all the right places. It occurred to him a little too late that he should go after her. Standing motionless he was soon caught up in a crowd of guests, all of whom wanted to talk to him.

Harry politely, and a little distractedly, made small talk with the guests at the Christening. He went back to Andromeda's garden where tea was served ably by Kreacher but with the duties of being godfather he never seemed to get a moment near Ginny, let alone a chance to talk with her. He endured introductions to all of Ted Tonks's Muggle cousins and a long winded conversation with Dedalus Diggle about the Dursleys. There were official duties like cutting the cake and thanking everyone for coming. Ron and Hermione seemed to have disappeared and Harry was soon cornered by Neville who launched into a long monologue about his plans for the year.

He'd decided to return to Hogwarts and properly complete his NEWTS and Harry fidgeted through a long winded description of who Neville thought might make a good replacement Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor and who would be the new Muggle Studies teacher.

"No doubt McGonagall will put the curriculum back the way it's supposed to be," said Neville confidently. "Two most important subjects I reckon. We have a lot of ground to make up with Muggleborn relations I'd say after last year. Got to do a lot of work to undo the rubbish we were taught in Dark Arts last year. Who'd you reckon would be good at it, Harry?"

"Oh, er, I dunno, Neville. An Auror would be good probably," said Harry vaguely as he scanned the crowd for Ginny.

"Professor Sprout said the herd has welcomed Firenze back into the Forest, so Trelawney's back to being the lone Divination teacher. I can't believe some people put stock in that stuff you know," Neville sighed and affected a dreamy look that startled Harry. "Still it's what makes some people tick you know. For me it's plants. For Parvati it's Divination…"

"Pavarti?" asked Harry, ceasing his search for Ginny as he focused on Neville properly. "What's going on with you and Parvati then?" Harry wished he had not asked. Neville commenced a discourse on her bravery, beauty, grit and determination that went for a full ten minutes.

"And she likes dancing too. She's been helping me learn how to do it without, you know, stepping on her toes," Neville said wryly. "Poor Ginny never once complained at the Yule Ball you know."

"Yeah, yeah, she's a great dancer," said Harry distractedly as he spotted Ginny with her parents, talking to Andromeda. They looked like they were saying goodbye. "Listen, Neville, why don't you stop by The Burrow some time, bring Pavarti. I've got to go." And he dashed off, leaving Neville waving after him cheerily and saying he'd be by sometime next week. Weaving through the crowd he reached Andromeda just as Ginny and her parents Disapparated. He groaned aloud.

"Oh, there you are Harry!" exclaimed Andromeda and she dragged him off to meet a series of people whom Harry could not remember and who he never expected to see again. It was nearly dark by the time he returned home. Ron and Hermione had returned to the Christening half an hour before, looking not a little bit disheveled, and Harry ribbed them about it for the whole time they spent helping Kreacher clear up. They said good night to Andromeda and Harry promised he'd be back later in the week before they Disapparated back to The Burrow.

"Hello dears," called Mrs Weasley from the stove where she was making hot chocolate when they walked into the kitchen, Harry still mocking Ron and Hermione over their earlier disappearing act. "I wondered when you'd be home; it is getting on a bit." She walked over to Harry and pulled him into a gentle hug. "You did wonderfully today dear. We're very proud of you and, well I'm sorry about this morning I was a little surprised is all. Ron er, set us straight though. I'm sorry I underestimated you." Harry smiled wryly.

"So I heard. Where's Ginny?"

"She went on up to her room as soon as we got home," Mrs Weasley paused, looking thoughtful. "She's been a bit quiet all afternoon. I haven't been able to figure out what's wrong." Harry sighed and flopped into a chair.

"I think we might have had a bit of a disagreement."

"You _think_?" asked Hermione incredulously. "How can you not _know_?"

"What did you say?" asked Ron resignedly as he pinched a biscuit from the plate on the table and perched himself expectantly on the sideboard.

"How do you know _I_ said anything?" said Harry defensively. Hermione just raised her eyebrow at him and Harry sighed.

"You should go and apologise," stated Ron as he stuffed another biscuit in his mouth.

"Hey, hang on! How do you know I've got something to apologise for?"

When Ron raised his eyebrow at him Harry merely sighed and stood up.

"Just so you all know, I am going to go and apologise now," announced Harry as he headed for the stairs.

"Oh, good show Harry, you'll get points for that," said George as he entered the kitchen. Giving George a glare Harry ascended the stairs mumbling about smart alecks and he heard Mrs Weasley call after him that she could see what he was doing with his fingers and she wouldn't hesitate to jinx them together next time.

Ron's laughter echoed up the stairs after him.


	14. Chapter 14

**14. Birthday**

Harry stood outside Ginny's closed bedroom door. He was thinking over the conversation they had earlier and trying desperately to figure out which bit to apologise for. Giving up he knocked quietly on the door.

"Come in."

Harry pushed the door open slowly and stuck his head around the edge of the door. Ginny was sitting at the window, resting her elbows on the windowsill, her chin on her hands. There was a candle nearby and the light reflected off her hair making it give off a reddish glow. Though he could not see her face, he remained transfixed as he studied her slender form and curves, highlighted by the soft glow of the candle.

"You can come in, Harry," she said without turning around.

"How'd you know it was me?" Harry slipped inside and closed the door with a soft click.

"Your smell," she replied as she turned around. "You smell different to the other boys here and Hermione doesn't knock."

"Oh," he paused before blurting, "I can smell you in Amortentia." He felt rather foolish after he said that and Ginny tilted her head to one side and studied him carefully.

"Hermione can smell Ron, you know. His hair," she replied conversationally. He nodded dumbly. "I've never smelled it." She stood up and stepped slowly towards him. "But you smell like wood, like broomsticks and sunshine. What do I smell like?" She was standing right in front of him now; her head tilted back, her neck exposed. He could see the pulse beating in her neck and the rise and fall of her chest as she stood otherwise motionless waiting for him to speak.

"Like flowers," he whispered, afraid to break the spell she was weaving over him. "Like flowers and like home." He crossed the short distance between them slowly and reached out to take her hand in his. Ginny looked down at their joined hands before looking up into his eyes. Harry was mesmerised and lifted his other hand to caress her cheek before trailing it down the back of her neck. His fingers felt like they were on fire. Ginny shuddered as her eyes slid shut.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered as his hand moved down her back. "I don't want to fight."

"We're not," murmured Ginny as she opened her eyes to look deep into his own. Involuntarily the hand on Ginny's back pulled Ginny towards him as he gazed down at her. He broke her gaze, his eyes flickering down to her lips and when he looked back up he saw that her own eyes were on his lips and he licked them nervously.

"I didn't see you all afternoon," said Harry quietly. "I didn't mean to argue with you. I never got used to the idea that people think I'm a powerful wizard. I'm just Harry." Her eyes were still on his lips as he spoke. Harry wasn't at all sure that she meant to speak the next words aloud.

"Well you certainly have a power over me," Ginny whispered before she leaned in and captured the lips she had been staring at hungrily, in a searing kiss. Harry felt the worry that he'd been feeling all afternoon lift from his shoulders. He lost himself in the kiss and the feel of her lips on his. He was startled when Ginny's tongue darted out and begged for entrance to his own mouth, she normally waited for his request. Willingly he parted his lips and as Ginny's tongue began playing with his own and he felt it run along his teeth he was suddenly overwhelmed by her and the need that he felt coming from deep inside him. It was powerful and scary and wonderful all at the same time.

Somehow, he didn't know how, Ginny had backed him into the door and as his hands tangled in her hair he felt her body pressing into his as she slowly caressed his tongue with her own. The involuntary reaction of his body did nothing to slow her down. While Harry was acutely embarrassed and tried to pull away it seemed to only make Ginny press herself against him further. Harry gave himself up to her and when Ginny made a little noise in the back of her throat he found himself pressing _her_ against the door, something which she did not protest in the slightest.

Ginny had one arm around his neck and the other resting on his chest as Harry's hands skimmed her hips and upper thighs and they continued to kiss heatedly. Only a thumping on the other side of the door broke through their ardor. Harry broke off the kiss, breathing raggedly.

"You've had enough time to make up! Get down into the kitchen for some hot chocolate!" Ron called from the other side of the door. Ginny giggled breathlessly and, now that the spell was broken, Harry flushed with embarrassment and tried to pull away from Ginny hurriedly. There was an evil gleam in her eye as she grabbed his waist, pinning him to her.

"I don't mind," she said, looking up at him. "I think it's sort of … sexy." Harry blushed harder but Ginny seemed unbearably unflappable. Letting go of his waist Ginny placed two small hands on his cheeks and forced him to look at her.

"It's okay, I love you," she whispered. Suddenly a sly grin stole over her features. "And I thought you wanted to share everything with me?"

"That's, that's …" Harry paused, she was turning his words against him now. He pulled her roughly against him and growled in her ear. "That's sneaky Miss Weasley." She pulled back a little and looked at him seriously.

"I mean it Harry, I don't mind. I'd be honoured to share that with you," she lowered her voice to a whisper. "I'd love to share that with you." Harry's heart skipped a beat as he watched her, eyes sparkling, lips swollen and face just a little flushed from her admission.

"Me too," his voice was barely a whisper. "But not now, not yet." She nodded, understanding him perfectly. Not now, not yet, but some day. Harry kissed her again, softly, gently this time and she sighed against his mouth. They didn't bother to straighten out or tidy themselves up a bit before heading down for hot chocolate.

********************

Harry claimed Snape's body the next day and he and most of the Order attended his burial next to Dumbledore on Hogwarts school grounds two days later.

"I didn't know the true Severus Snape all this time. The man he showed me, the one he showed most people isn't who he really was. He put himself on the line, all these years, protecting me … I thought he was trying to kill me," said Harry as he smiled wryly, a ripple of quiet laughter went up. "This man was one of the bravest, most loyal people I have known. He loved my mother, always until he died. I thought about burying him near her, where he'd want to be, but I figured my dad might have a few words with me about that and make my eternity miserable. But he belongs here anyway, with Professor Dumbledore who was the only one who really knew him, knew who he was." Harry paused. The Giant Squid splashed lazily and Harry heard Fang bark.

"No one should be forgotten," Harry said quietly. Later when he stood contemplating the headstone, he realised George had joined him.

"Getting to be a habit of ours," said George, only half smiling. "What are we going to put on the bottom of his?" Harry contemplated for a moment before inscribing, at the bottom of the headstone,

'_Where dwell the brave at heart'_

He contemplated the words for a long time, knowing now they did not refer only to Gryffindor House. He turned to find George several feet away with a mischievous gleam in his eye. Hurrying over to Dumbledore's tomb Harry watched as George added an epitaph to the white monolith. In the bottom right hand corner he carved in small neat lettering

'_Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!'_

*************

The rest of July was spent aimlessly. Sleeping late (rewarded by having to degnome the garden if they did it too many mornings in a row), going to see Teddy (who could almost roll over), visiting friends (and being visited by lovestruck mates and their dotty girlfriends) and playing Quidditch (with bewitched apples in the orchard). One day, shortly before Harry's birthday, Dean and Luna and Neville and Parvarti dropped by and Harry and Ginny were sitting in the garden with them when Ron returned from Diagon Alley. He flopped down ungracefully beside them.

"What're we talking about today?" he asked. "Or are we snogging, today?"

"Do we_ look_ like we're snogging, Ron?" demanded Ginny.

"Not at the minute but you two always look like you've just been snogging."

"They were snogging when we got here," piped up Dean helpfully. Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. "Not that there is anything at all, in the slightest wrong with that course of action at all, ever, in fact Ginny should just really snog whoever, whenever she feels the er, absolute need."

"Oi, what's with the whoever?" grumbled Harry. Ron shuddered.

"I did not need that image, thanks, Dean."

"Oh, anytime, mate, anytime," Dean waved his hand airily before muttering something that sounded like 'payback' under his breath. Ron glared at him.

"I was scarred for life, I'll have you know! I reacted perfectly sanely if you understood my personal situation at the time!"

"What, the pining over Hermione situation?" scoffed Ginny. Harry groaned and flopped back on the grass. Neville looked puzzled.

"You just made that worse," growled Ron, stabbing a finger in the air in her general direction. Dean was watching Ginny and Ron apprehensively.

"Just stop it," groaned Harry. "We do not need to hear an entire Weasley family kissing history_ again_!" The others looked at Harry curiously as Ron and Ginny blushed.

"Kissing history?" Neville ventured timidly.

"Ah yes, 'tis a time honoured sibling tradition. Catch your sister snogging her boyfriend, express outrage and threaten to decapitate said boyfriend. She returns in kind by mocking your lack of romantic prowess in front of his best mate," Dean nodded sagely, trying to conceal a grin.

"I never threatened to decapitate you. Stop being so dramatic," retorted Ron. "You left pretty smartly as I recall," he finished smugly.

"Must we go over this?" asked Harry, disgruntled. "We do not need to rehash old ground."

"Scared they'll start on you next, Harry?" asked Parvati pointedly.

"I did not save the world to be mocked about failed teenage romances," muttered Harry.

"Well, you're the one who described his first snog as 'wet'!" laughed Ron. Parvati, Neville and Dean burst out laughing.

"She was crying!" said Harry exasperatedly and he closed his eyes to shut out the sight of his friends falling about laughing. Luna looked at him thoughtfully.

"Are you that bad a kisser, Harry?" Harry opened one eye and glared at her.

"No, I am not!"

"Woeful dancer though."

"Thanks a bunch, Parvati."

"Anytime."

"I think the Yule Ball was the worst night of my life," moaned Ron.

"No, it wasn't you finest moment," Parvati muttered and Harry shuddered. Parvati threw grass at him.

"First dates, hey?" said Ron. "Good times, good times …"

"Are you mental? There was nothing good about our first dates, Ron!" exclaimed Harry. Parvati threw more grass at him … and several small twigs.

"Mine was all right," said Neville looking dreamily at the sky until Ginny stepped on his foot. He started guiltily. Ginny laughed.

"I still have my feet, it's okay, although I'll have you know, I could have gone with Harry," she pretended to swoon and then giggled.

"You would have had a shocking time, it would have turned you off me for good," said Harry. Parvati nodded emphatically and threw another handful of twigs at his head. "I was fourteen and not into girls at all." Neville, Dean and Ron were all overcome with a coughing fit that sounded suspiciously like 'Cho'.

"Oh look, Ginny's little hackles rise when you say Cho!" crowed Ron. He began repeating it in a sing song voice while Ginny growled at him. "Oooh I wonder if it works on Harry too … Michael … Dean …" Harry had fallen about laughing helplessly and Ron stopped because Ginny had narrowed her eyes at him in a menacing fashion.

"Lavender …" she hissed. Ron went pale. Dean and Neville joined Harry in helpless laughter as Ron spluttered before going silent.

As the playful banter wove back and forth under the glorious summer sky Harry contemplated that in actual fact, this was exactly what he had saved the world for.

******************

"What will we do for your birthday, Harry?" asked Mrs Weasley at breakfast the day before he turned eighteen. Harry shrugged.

"Let's have a party!" crowed George from his seat next to Harry. "It's been ages since we had a birthday party at The Burrow!"

"It's a bit short notice, George dear," said Mrs Weasley, frowning.

"No it's not!" said George.

"It's tomorrow, dear," said Mrs Weasley. "How would you let everyone know – what if they're busy?"

"Ha! This is Harry, mum! No one's going to be 'too busy'! I ask you…" he trailed off as he began to turn out his pockets. He obviously found what he was looking for amidst the Ton Tongue Toffees, squashed packet of Canary Creams and what looked like six pairs of Extendable Ears. "Here we are! No problem, you put the Weasley twins on the case and you get results!" His mother froze as George held his DA Galleon aloft. As he looked at it George seemed to realise what he had said. He hurriedly shoved the mess on the table back into his pockets and laid the coin on the table. Stabbing it viciously with his wand he attempted to charm it to reveal details for Harry's party. His hand was shaking and the spell didn't seem to work and he only managed to turn the Galleon a very unbecoming shade of green.

Suddenly he threw the wand across the kitchen and it narrowly missed Hermione's head as she came down for breakfast. Nobody moved except George who dropped his head into his hands.

"I keep picking up stupid Fred's stupid wand," he cried. "I keep forgetting I'm not twins anymore. I wore the 'F' jumper yesterday and no one said anything. It's like he wasn't ever even here …" Mrs Weasley sat down heavily and burst into tears. Ron, who had been silent the whole exchange, went over to his mother and wordlessly gathered her into an embrace. George sat staring at the DA Galleon and Hermione moved over and put her hand on his.

"What were you trying to charm it to say, George?" she asked softly.

"Harry's Birthday party, tomorrow," he said quietly. Hermione charmed the Galleon to invite anyone who had one to come to The Burrow for Harry's birthday the next day and then George broke down. Harry and Hermione put their arms around him at the same time and just held him as he cried.

It was a quiet day at The Burrow. George, for the first time seemed reluctant to remain in his room all day and he sat in the living room answering anyone who tried to engage him in conversation with monosyllables.

"Why does he sit down here like he wants company if he doesn't talk to anyone?" wondered Harry as he, Ginny, Ron and Hermione ate lunch in the kitchen.

"I don't think he wants company really," said Hermione thoughtfully. "He's been looking at that baby picture a lot, the one of him and Fred." Harry jumped up.

"That's brilliant," he breathed. "I'll be back!" He hurried to the fireplace and throwing some Floo powder in called, "Diagon Alley!"

When Harry actually arrived in Diagon Alley he began to regret his hasty decision to go there alone, without his Cloak. The place was packed with witches and wizards and he suddenly realised that he'd likely be recognized within minutes. Flattening his fringe over his scar and keeping his head down he made it to the ice cream parlour. Ducking inside he beckoned to Fortescue's nephew. He'd been kind to him before third year, perhaps he'd remember him.

Oh who was he kidding, he didn't need to be_ remembered_. Harry mentally rolled his eyes at himself. He did manage to leave the ice cream parlour within ten minutes, wearing a borrowed wide brimmed wizarding hat that was a rather violent shade of red but it covered his scar and the brim hid his face and he walked up the steps of Gringotts in it, unemcumbered. Now that he was here, he had no way of finding Bill, he realised. Stepping up to the nearest teller he explained that he wanted to see Bill or Fleur Weasley but the goblins seemed singularly uninterested in helping him. In exasperation he took the hat off and wiped his brow. The protuberant eyes on the goblin in front of him looked as if they would pop out of his head all together when he realised who Harry was. After a twenty minute lecture on breaking into Gringotts and stealing dragons Harry was delivered to Bill Weasley in a cart that travelled more swiftly than was necessary.

Understanding Harry's request Bill told Harry to warn his mother to expect him and Fleur for dinner that night. Harry crammed the ridiculous hat back on his head and made his way back to the Leaky Cauldron to Floo back home.

He would not be drawn on where he had been or what he had been up to. George studied him briefly when he poked his head into the living room.

"Are you trying to blend in with that abominable hat?"George asked bluntly. Harry grinned and shoved it on Hermione's head, pulling it over her eyes while she was engrossed in a book.

"You've got a mischievous streak there, Potter," said George with admiration in his voice.

"I learned from the best, George. I learned mischief from the best."

George and Harry shared a quiet grin while Hermione huffed at them and pulled that hat off before discarding it in a heap on the floor. Mrs Weasley turned out to be extremely pleased that Bill and Fleur would be there for dinner and added several dishes to the massive amounts of food she was turning out for Harry's birthday party. Bill and Fleur arrived carrying a rather large parcel. It was covered in brown paper and beyond saying it wasn't Harry's birthday present they refused to say what it was.

When they'd all eaten their fill and the dishes had been cleared away Bill asked everyone to go into the living room. He followed them with the large parcel. Taking a slightly smaller one from the pocket of his cloak he handed it to George and the larger one to his parents.

"We thought you would like these," he said simply and everyone in the room knew he meant him and Harry, not him and Fleur. Slowly George unwrapped the parcel in his hand as Mrs Weasley tore the paper off the larger one. Inside was a framed photograph, taken at Bill and Fleur's wedding. The twins in their dress robes stood laughing at the camera. They watched as photo George poked his finger in photo Fred's ear and Fred attempted to reciprocate before George affected great injury to his missing ear. The two of them flung their arms around each other's shoulders and waved at the camera.

A lone tear dripped down George's cheek, splashing on the glass as he watched the photo. Mrs Weasley reached out to touch the laughing image of Fred solemnly.

"It's the last one we had taken together," said George quietly. Bill nodded.

"That one's for you. The other one's for in here."

"Oh Bill, it's wonderful. Thank you," murmured Mrs Weasley.

"It was Harry's idea," said Bill. "He would have done it if not for the fact the photos were at my place and his ridiculous and conspicuous headwear."

"Even without headwear he's ridiculous and conspicuous," said George. Everyone started laughing and Mr Weasley hung the photograph in pride of place on the living room wall.

"How did you know, Harry?" asked Hermione. "How did you know that would help?" Silently Harry made his way up the stairs and returned a few moments later with a small photo frame that he handed to Hermione.

"Oh," she said softly as she watched James and Lily Potter waving at the camera from a snowy Hogsmeade street.

******************

Harry awoke the next morning because of a pillow to the head.

"Wake up birthday boy!" yelled Ron several decibels louder than necessary.

"Shuddup," Harry mumbled as he buried his head under his pillow. Ron jumped on top of him then.

"Geddup! Geddup! Geddup! You should have been down ages ago!" he yelled bouncing up and down on top of Harry. Harry pulled his head out from under the pillow and glared at him.

"Just how old are you, Ron?" he yawned. "Anyone would think it's_ your_ birthday – or Christmas, the way you're carrying on!" Ron jumped off the bed and hauled back the covers, pulling on his arm.

"All right, All right, I'm coming!" Harry managed to pull on some jeans and shove his feet into his trainers and was pulling a T-Shirt over his head when Ron grabbed his arm, hauling him out of the room.

"Come on!"

"What is _with _you, Ron?"

"It's your birthday! There is presents!" Harry simply shook his head. Well of course there was presents, he was fairly used to there being presents by now.

"We're eighteen, Ron, I think a little decorum might be in order?" he said exasperatedly as Ron tried to pull him faster down the stairs. He found himself going slower just to annoy Ron. "Oh wait, I get it, someone's clearly bought me a big box from Honeydukes, haven't they? And you can't wait to get into _that_."

"No, no, no, no! Well I think there is a lot of chocolate and stuff there, anyway I already opened the Bertie Botts, oh, er … oh just come ON!" Ron finally succeeded in pulling Harry all the way into the kitchen, whereupon Harry stopped dead.

"Hullo Harry! Happy Birthday!" Hagrid had squeezed his great bulk into The Burrow's kitchen and was carrying a rather large box.

"Hagrid!" called Harry cheerfully as he made his way across the kitchen (which wasn't far considering Hagrid was so big he filled most of the kitchen). "It's good to see you!" As he reached Hagrid the large box was thrust at him.

"Made it meself," said Hagrid. "Grawp wanted to 'elp but, well, he's jus' not very good with tha' cookin'."

"Thanks, Hagrid," said Harry, opening the box to reveal a lopsided birthday cake. Putting it on the table next to a pile of gaily wrapped presents he threw his arms around Hagrid and braced himself for the reciprocation. As he regained his breath and tested his lung function Harry realised Ron was gesturing wildly and whispering urgently to Hagrid.

"Well, I dunno, Ron," said Hagrid. "It's supposed to be here. It were supposed to get'ere tha same time as me, that bein' the signal an' all."

"Stupid Percy," muttered Ron. "Why did we trust him with it again?" Mrs Weasley who was cooking at the stove gave Ron a sharp look.

"Happy Birthday, Harry dear," she said as she gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Sit down, sit down, breakfast is nearly ready. Ron, go and get everyone else. I don't know why everyone is so slow this morning." As Ron dashed back off up the stairs Hagrid told Harry a little about how Hogwarts was coming along.

"It'll be in fine shape when you all come back an' all," he said. "Good as new an' ev'rythin'." Mr Weasley came in through the back door just then and George, Ginny, Hermione and Ron came thundering down the stairs. Mrs Weasley hustled them all to seats and gave them all heaping piles of breakfast. Harry noticed Mr Weasley pulled Mrs Weasley aside and they were having a furious whispered conversation.

"Well, it's supposed to be here. I don't know why it isn't!"

"That was the whole point of using Hermes!" Ginny and Ron kept glancing up to look out the window and Hermione raised an eyebrow at Hagrid who shrugged.

"Er, is everything all right?" asked Harry. "You all seem a little tense." Hagrid reached out and patted Harry on the shoulder, knocking him off his chair.

"No problems at all, here, have a present," said George hastily as he hauled him back into his seat and shoved a box from the pile at him. "That one's from me and F-Ron it's new stock for school." Before he could open it the fireplace flared to life and Bill and Fleur came tumbling out.

"Happy Birthday Harry!" said Bill cheerfully. "Did you like your present?" he was hurriedly shushed by the other occupants of the room. Harry looked at them all with a great deal of suspicion.

"I haven't opened any yet," he said pointedly. Bill looked confused.

"But Hagrid's here," he said. Harry shook his head deciding they were all completely mad. He opened the box in his hands. It was filled with an assortment of Wheezes, not all of which were familiar.

"Thanks, George, thanks, Ron!" he said. Hermione handed him another package as George nodded absently and glanced out the window. Harry took the parcel Hermione held out and peered out the window. "What're we looking for George?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," said George hastily. "That's Hermione's. It's a book." Harry rolled his eyes and tore the paper off. He looked at it curiously.

"Hermione, I don't mean to be rude or anything, but why did you get me a book on broom care when I haven't got a broom?" Hermione flushed a deep shade of pink.

"Well, you know, you'll get one soon, won't you?" said Ron hurriedly plucking another parcel off the pile and thrusting it at him. Harry shook his head resignedly and looked at Ginny but she was engrossed in some sort of silent conversation with her mother that he could not decipher. Shrugging Harry opened the parcel to reveal some Chocolate Frogs from Ginny when the fireplace flared again and Percy stepped out. The room fell even quieter than it had been; which a feat was considering they had all been sitting in tense silence as it was.

"Percy!" his mother hissed at him. "Where is Hermes?"

"Well, Errol showed up!" cried Percy. "It's like he knew you'd given his job to another owl! He kept pecking me and I had a lot of trouble sending Hermes off."

"Well, is it coming?" demanded Ron.

"What about the other?" asked Hagrid.

"Any minute now," hissed Percy, "ah, Harry, many happy returns." He handed Harry a small package. Harry looked up as he pulled the paper off the gift in his hands.

"Thanks, Percy," he said before he looked back down. He stared at the item in his hands completely at a loss, his brows drawn in confusion before he shook his head and put it on the table next to the book from Hermione. Ginny reached over and picked it up.

"Percy, why would you get owl treats for someone without an owl?" He knew she didn't mean it but Ginny's words were like a knife twisting in his gut and he didn't hear what excuse, if any, Percy gave her. Ron looked sharply at his sister and Hagrid made a choking noise. Mrs Weasley thrust another package into his hands and he thanked Bill and Fleur gratefully for a nice, normal, unpuzzling gift of parchment and quills.

"Not very interesting I know," apologised Bill. "But you know, practical." He shrugged and looked pointedly out of the window. Harry resolved to ignore their strange behaviour, there was whispering now, and pulled the last of the packages towards him. Mr and Mrs Weasley had given him a box of Honeydukes chocolate.

"Thanks everyone," he said but they all ignored him as Hermione, now standing by the window shrieked,

"Here it comes!" Everyone scrambled to the window, except Harry who began to eat his breakfast, firmly resolved to ignore the continuing odd behaviour of his family.

He didn't get very far as everyone suddenly dived out of the way as two owls came soaring in with an absolutely enormous parcel that they dropped right in his breakfast, spilling his pumpkin juice.

"Happy Birthday Harry!" squealed Ginny, clapping her hands gleefully.

"This is your real present, mate!" crowed Ron gleefully.

"But there was nothing wrong with the other presents," said Harry.

"Go on! Open it!" urged Mrs Weasley. Harry was about to but he was distracted by the owl that had arrived with Hermes. She wasn't a particularly large owl but given that she was a Snowy Owl who bore a strong resemblance to Hedwig and had commenced pecking his hand it was not surprising that she caught Harry's attention.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," said Hagrid softly as he pulled a large cage out from behind his chair. The owl hopped onto his arm and clawed her way up to his shoulder, nipping him on the ear. Harry unearthed a piece of bacon from underneath the enormous package and gave it to her.

"She's mine?" he whispered, looking up at Hagrid who nodded.

"She's only 'bout a year old. Found a bloke who was inter rescuin' owls, yeh see," Hagrid began. "Jus' over a year ago there were a massive Snowy Owl slaughter. Reckon You-Know-Who was lookin' to get Hedwig ." Hagrid stopped and sniffed. Harry blinked. "Anyway, the babies are born in May and this bloke found a nest, the mother had been killed and all the lil' babies didn' make it, 'cept o' course this un. He took her 'ome an' hand raised her." Ginny reached out to stroke the beautiful owl.

"Oh, that's so sad," she cried softly. Harry contemplated the bird, orphaned by Voldemort, and could only agree with the next thing Hagrid uttered.

"See 'n she's meant ter be yours, Harry," sniffed Hagrid. The owl had climbed onto Ginny's arm and she had opened the bag of owl treats (after throwing an apologetic look at Percy) and offered her one. Harry leapt out of his chair and in spite of his earlier remonstrations to Ron about acting their age he threw himself at Hagrid as if he were eleven years old again.

"Thanks, Hagrid," he murmured into Hagrid's shoulder (which he could only just reach even though Hagrid was sitting down). Hagrid patted him on the back.

"Yer welcome, Harry, yer welcome."

"So you knew, hey Perce?" said Ron as Harry surfaced from Hagrid's embrace. Percy nodded.

"Hagrid brought that owl along with the br-present and suggested they both bring it," he explained. "That also caused some delay. Hermes, er was a bit too, well, _friendly_ this morning." Percy blushed and Ron laughed.

"What are you going to call her, Harry?" asked Hermione. Harry watched as Ginny stroked the owl's head and crooned softly to her. He wondered what Ginny wanted to call her.

"Don't let _her_ do it!"exclaimed Ron as if he'd read Harry's mind. "She's the one who named_ Pigwidgeon_! I'm tellin' ya mate, don't let her name your kids without some serious input!"

"But if he lets her name the animals he can get significant naming rights over the kids," interjected George. Harry just looked at them and shook his head. He reached over and stroked the bird still perched on Ginny's shoulder and the owl nipped his fingers affectionately.

"What should we call her, Ginny?" he asked softly as the owl hopped over to Harry and leaned over to investigate the cage next to him.

"Liberty," said Ginny. Harry smiled.

"Perfect." The two of them stood there petting the snowy owl and Ron made an indistinct noise in his throat.

"If you two have finished being domestic, do you think we could get to the present opening?" he asked pointedly.

"It's from all of us," said Mr Weasley. "Go on, open it." Harry saw the occupants of the kitchen watching him expectantly. He reached out and began to peel off the paper. Ron gave a noise of disgust and tore off a huge piece of the paper covering the parcel.

"Hurry up, Harry!" he said exasperatedly. Harry laughed and together they ripped into the parcel. When the contents were revealed Harry could only stare in astonishment.

"The Gryffindor Captain needs the best broom there is."

"Even Charlie agreed that's a Seeker's broom."

"See, it comes with its own servicing kit."

"It's so shiny!"

"It's a Firebolt Three!"

"Say something Harry!"

"I … it's for me?" Harry looked up, his eyes wide. Ginny nodded vigorously. "I … wow … thanks!" Harry breathed. Ron was bouncing up and down, his own broomstick in his hands, his behavior finally explained. Harry should have known only a broomstick could get him acting the way he had been all morning.

"Come on, Harry! Let's go flying!" Harry looked expectantly at Ginny as he picked the broom up but she shook her head as she handed him a bacon sandwich.

"I'll see you out there after I help clean up in here. Go with Ron, I'll put Liberty's cage away."

"Come flying with me later?" Ginny nodded and Harry kissed her on the cheek hastily before tearing out the kitchen door after Ron.

He spent the next hour with Ron, flying around The Burrow. They took it in turns to ride the Firebolt Three. It was a magnificent broomstick and responded like it was part of him. Then Ginny came out to fly and he coaxed her into riding the broom with him. As she slid onto the back of the new broomstick and clasped her arms around his waist he took off and she shrieked as they rocketed towards the clouds. Harry dipped back down and levelled off, flying in circles around the trees in the orchard while Ginny drew lazy circles on his stomach with her fingertips. He could feel her breath on the back of his neck, her legs pressed up against him and that made him very aware of the rise and fall of her chest as it pressed against his back.

Harry started when he realised Ginny was pressing feather light kisses on his neck and across his shoulders and that her hands had worked their way under his T-Shirt. He flew around two more apple trees and then nearly collided with a pear tree when the feel of her fingertips on his skin made him shiver and lose concentration. He landed softly in the shade of the pear tree and turned in her arms. Wordlessly he wrapped his arms around her, the broomstick still in one hand and began pressing soft kisses along her jaw before capturing her lips in a slow and sensual kiss. He didn't stop when they heard Ron land right next to them and ask if he could have a go on the Firebolt Three if they were going to snog instead of fly. Harry simply held the broomstick out in the vague direction of Ron's voice and when it was liberated from his grasp, used his now free hand to run up and down Ginny's back. They were interrupted by Liberty who landed roughly on Harry's shoulder, causing him to yelp in pain.

"What was that for, you silly bird?" he cried as he rubbed his shoulder, Liberty having hopped to Ginny's arm when he yelped.

"Don't call her silly!" reprimanded Ginny. "She's just a baby, aren't you gorgeous girl?" As she began to coo at the owl and stroke her feathers Harry just shook his head and wrapped his arms back around Ginny's waist from behind, splaying his hands across her tummy. Liberty suddenly took off and they watched her soar back to the house where they noticed Hagrid was leaving. He called out to them.

"Got ter be heading back now! Happy birthday Harry! I'll see you two back at Hogwarts!" He waved cheerily as he flagged down the Knight Bus at The Burrow's gate and Harry watched until the Bus took off.

"Are you having a good day, Harry?" asked Ginny softly as Harry rested his chin on her shoulder, watching Liberty swoop around the trees in the orchard.

"Yeah, I am," he replied. "But then, any day with you is a good day."

"Flatterer."

"No, I mean it," said Harry earnestly. "Being with you just makes me feel good." George had come out to the orchard and they watched him chase Ron around the trees, the new Firebolt easily eclipsing George's broom and Liberty swooping between the two of them.

"Flying feels pretty good too," murmured Ginny. "It feels so different now. It's like the whole world feels free."

"That's because we are," said Harry, unable to resist pressing a kiss on the soft skin just behind her ear. "Flying is wonderful, and I love the broom. I can't believe it's mine … that'd you'd all get it for me. It's amazing."

"You should go get it back off Ron, have a real go at it. Go on," she urged him. "Mum's not going to let you help with any chores today anyway – go on, go fly." Harry spent the rest of the morning flying. Liberty joined him occasionally before going off to hunt or swoop on the garden Gnomes which seemed to endlessly fascinate her.

Feeling mischievous Harry would fly past Hermione as she sat reading under one of the trees, going so fast the pages in her book fluttered uncontrollably and he would laugh gleefully as she got flustered and told him off. But he kept doing it and she didn't stop him.

When Ron and George were called to help set up tables for the party Harry flew in circles around the lawn, doing his best to get in their way and hanging upside down from his broom as he flew alongside giving 'helpful' tips on how to levitate the tables and where to put them. Ron called him a silly git and that he'd put the tables wherever he wanted but neither of them told Harry to stop, no matter how many times he messed up their concentration. Harry would laugh riotously as he shot away from the havoc he'd created.

Percy, Bill, Fleur and Mr Weasley had gone to work after watching him fly for a few minutes when he first went out but Mrs Weasley was in the kitchen cooking up a storm. When he'd had his fun with Hermione and finished with Ron and George, he flew up to the kitchen window and hovered there until Mrs Weasley opened the window.

"Hello dear," she said, pushing the window open and the curtains aside. "Are you having fun? Is it a good broomstick? The boys picked it out; I don't know much about broomsticks you know." Harry grinned at her.

"It's great Mrs Weasley! Thanks!" he said. "Did you know that you are the second most beautiful woman here today? And the best cook in the entire world?" Mrs Weasley shook her head at him.

"What do you want, Harry?" she asked. Harry grinned at her some more.

"Are you making treacle tart?"

"Of course I am! Now be off with you before you fall off and into my herb garden!"

Harry soared away, his laughter carrying on the air. He swooped and dived, Liberty alongside him, and reflected that he'd not felt this free and this_ happy_ in quite a long time. Spotting Ginny carrying what looked like decorations out to the garden Harry soared over to her and hovered only long enough to plant a kiss on her cheek before climbing up into the sky and commencing another circuit of the orchard. He didn't realise that far below him The Burrow's occupants were reveling in Harry's mischief and fun as much as he was, for they had never seen him so carefree and happy and no one was willing to change that no matter how many pages he ruffled or tables he caused to crash to the ground.

People weren't due to start arriving for Harry's party until mid afternoon. He'd been shooed from the kitchen by Ginny and Mrs Weasley shortly after lunch and spent the first part of the afternoon with Ron and Hermione down at the pond. The three of them had not spent a lot of time together recently and as they splashed in the pond, soaking up the summer sun Harry was suddenly overcome by the realisation that things were about to change. He stopped throwing water at Ron abruptly and waded over to sit on some rocks near the bank.

"What's wrong, mate?" asked Ron, following Harry as he hoisted himself onto a smooth, flat rock near the water's edge. Harry pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and sighed.

"Things are going to be all different," he explained. "Which is a good thing for lots of reasons, but … well I guess I realised I'm going to miss you … miss us." He looked at Ron sadly.

"But –"

"Never mind," Harry said quickly. "It's silly of me. You'd think I could get by for a few months without my best mate." Ron looked at him thoughtfully.

"You'll still have Hermione."

"She's a girl," Harry grimaced, and Ron laughed. "It's not the same." Hermione managed to make her way over to them and Ron hauled her onto the rock beside them. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to sit between his legs, her back resting against his chest.

"George needs me," he said as he leant his cheek on top of Hermione's head.

"Yeah, I know."

"And you'll have Ginny."

"She's a girl too."

"What's wrong with girls?" demanded Hermione sharply. Ron laughed.

"Nothing, Hermione," replied Harry. "It's just not the same." Hermione leaned over and put her hand on his arm.

"I know," she said. The three of them sat companionably in the sun for a long time.

"I don't think I ever thought this time would come, you know," said Harry, breaking the stillness. "Growing up, doing different things. I don't know if it's because I didn't think I would get to grow up or it just seemed too far away."

"Maybe no one ever thinks they are going to grow up? Maybe it's like this for everyone," mused Ron.

"Did you ever think of yourself as an adult?" asked Hermione suddenly. "You know, with a job, married, maybe some kids?" Harry shook his head. Ron surprised them both by nodding emphatically. Hermione smiled.

"What did you imagine, Ron?"

"Having a daughter," he said, leaning back on his hands and tipping his head back to sun his face. "Weasley women are rare but that would make her so much more special. And she'd be smart, heaps smarter than me, like her mum." He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Hermione then, placing a light kiss on her neck.

"But I always imagined having a son too," he continued, "one who plays Quidditch. He's going to be brave and loyal. I reckon he'd be a bit of a troublemaker though. I figure he'd get that from his Uncle Harry." Ron winked at him and they both stifled laughter as Hermione launched into a spiel about how she would not be at all surprised if his own son got that entirely from him.

"You wouldn't need Harry's help to corrupt our son," she finished exasperatedly. "I am sure you would be quite capable of doing that on your own."

"Ours, huh?" Ron asked softly and Hermione blushed.

"Yeah," she admitted shyly, "my imaginary children always had you as their dad." Harry contemplated leaving them to it as he watched Ron nuzzle the side of Hermione's neck when suddenly Hermione asked Harry if he wanted kids.

"Yeah I do," Harry said after a moment. "I used to think I didn't even have a future. I reckon I've got one now. Maybe I'll be an Auror and get married and have some kids. If I had a son, I'd call him James."

"Who do you reckon he'd look like then?" asked Ron idly as he twirled a strand of Hermione's hair around his finger.

"Me, I reckon," said Harry wistfully. "Only maybe he'd have brown eyes like my dad … Everyone could tell _him_ he looks just like his father only with his mother's eyes … I always thought, you know that you and me'd be Aurors together though. Maybe that's why I can't imagine the next year without you. I always thought we'd be together."

"That's the sort of thing you say to a girl mate," snorted Ron. Harry shook his head.

"It's not like that and you know it!" he protested.

"Yeah I know." They lapsed into silence again. Harry watched Ron as he trailed his fingers up and down Hermione's arm and she shivered before leaning into his touch.

"Ginny's the only girl I trust you know," said Ron suddenly.

"Huh?"

"With your heart," said Ron as he averted his eyes to stare over the pond. "No one else is good enough for you."

"Your mum told me you all thought I was the only one good enough for Ginny," Harry said softly, staring into the distance.

"That's true too," sighed Ron. "But you mean as much to me as she does. And no one loves you like she does, you know. She's my baby sister – don't tell her I said that – and she means the world to me. But you do as well. Take care of each other, okay?" Harry nodded.

"We will."

"It'll be okay won't it?" asked Hermione suddenly. "We'll be okay now?" Harry looked at her, sensing the worry behind her question but it was Ron who answered her.

"Yeah, we'll be okay now. We've been through too much for it all to fall apart now," he said with authority. "Look after my girls at Hogwarts, Harry." Harry smiled.

"You can count on it, Ron."

*******************

The party was a great success, the garden filling up with young people in only a short time and a pile of unexpected presents growing ever higher on one of the tables. Lee and Angelina turned up together with Katie Bell and cornered George. Harry found Katie and George a short time later, behind a tree, looking very much involved. He left them to it, a smile playing across his lips. Neville, Dean and Seamus spent quite some time exclaiming over his new broomstick with Ron but Lavender, Luna and the Patil twins spent more time with Liberty, exclaiming over her. Most of the DA came and a few brought friends. Alicia brought Oliver Wood and they appeared to be very much an item. As he watched Ron and Hermione wandering around fingers entwined and Luna apparently attached to Dean's hip he began to wonder where Ginny was. Watching Parvati feed Neville some grapes just made him nauseous but it also gave him a longing he knew meant he wanted to see Ginny, be attached to her hip, hold her hand; maybe not so much the grape eating but the involvement behind the tree thing was looking mighty attractive.

He still hadn't found her amongst the guests when he spotted Cho heading towards him purposefully. He knew it was desperately obvious of him but he began casting about for someone else, anyone else, to talk to as she approached. He did not like the look on her face one little bit. It was predatory. He shoved his hands in his pockets and took a few steps back as she reached him and stretched out a hand, placing it on his chest and reaching up to kiss his cheek. He thought she lingered far too long and had he not been backed up against a table he would have taken another five steps backwards to get away from her. As it was he leaned his torso back as far as he could without toppling over while Cho seemed to be purring at him and asking if he'd had a good birthday. Casting around for an escape he saw Ron laughing at him and shot him a venomous look.

"So, Harry," Cho purred, "have you had a good day? How does it feel to be eighteen?"

"Yes, it's been a good day, thanks," he said, flustered. "I – I feel sort of, well, you know … the same." He took a step sideways, managing to move out from under her hand. He was disconcerted to find her following him.

"So, what have you been up to?"

"Ah, well, I … er … flying!" he finally blurted. "New broom."

"Oh, perhaps you could take me up for a ride then?" she was batting her eyelashes at him. Harry looked around desperately searching for Ginny and found himself near the present table.

"Oh, well can't … see gotta open these," he said trying his best to sound authoritative as he seized one of the packages, holding it front of himself like a shield. He could see Ron and Hermione hiding smirks, Neville and Parvati openly grinning and Padma shaking her head as if disgusted. He sent them all pleading looks but they were suddenly busy inspecting shoelaces or fingernails. Harry marched over to Ron, grabbing his arm and pulled him over to the presents.

"Ron is going to help me, aren't you Ron?" he said, situating Ron between himself and Cho. Managing to stay well away from Cho Harry and Ron opened the pile of gaily wrapped gifts revealing a large stash of chocolates and sweets, several books about Quidditch, an assortment of stationery and a number of items of clothing. Still Ginny was nowhere to be seen and Cho was somehow making her way through the present barrier Harry had erected around himself.

"Do something!" muttered Harry out of the side of his mouth to Ron as she got closer.

"What should I do?" hissed back Ron. "Has she not got the hint?"

"Maybe you should be more direct with her," said Hermione firmly. Both of them looked at her, horrified, as if this was possibly the least sane course of action on the planet. At that moment Ginny finally appeared and Harry's heart began fluttering madly about in his chest, banishing any thought of Cho and her unwelcome advances.

She had changed out of the cut off shorts and T-shirt she had been wearing that morning and was now wearing a simple but stunning green dress that seemed to float when she walked. Her feet were bare and her hair had been left lying loose on her shoulders. With his eyes fixed on her as she walked across the lawn Harry did not notice that Cho had finally made it to his side nor did he notice the look on her face when he ignored her and went straight over to Ginny.

"Hi there," he said as he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. "I was wondering where you were." Ginny smiled up at him as he lowered his voice to a whisper. "Cho's been trying to dig her claws into me all afternoon and I don't know why she won't take a hint!"

"Oh, well perhaps this will convince her then," said Ginny with just a hint of mischief in her voice as she reached up and kissed him, winding her hands into his hair and pulling his head closer. Harry did not need any encouragement and he tightened his hold on her waist before he teased her lips open with his tongue.

"Oi!" Harry surfaced and grinned at Ron who simply grinned back at him before inclining his head slightly to the left. Harry twisted to look and saw Cho, an angry look on her face slinking back to the edge of the lawn. Harry smiled and spent the rest of his party with his hand in Ginny's; stealing quick kisses from her while he ate and talked to his friends.

It was around sunset when Harry caught up with Oliver Wood. The two of them began to talk about his new broomstick and Gryffindor's prospects for winning the House Cup.

"I have absolutely no idea really," said Harry. "There was no Quidditch last year, half the previous year's team was on the run and we've lost our Keeper. I'd say it's looking pretty dodgy to be honest. We've got a partial team who are so out of practice it's not funny."

"Yeah but you've got that new broom, Harry," exclaimed Oliver, "and you are a brilliant Seeker. The other team was pretty good at the Memorial match – how many of them will be on the team?"

"I can't see Neville agreeing to try out, but Dean and Seamus likely will," mused Harry.

"Demelza and the Beaters will be back too Harry," interjected Ginny. "If Seamus is any good as a Keeper we've got a team right there."

"Do you reckon Seamus would be any good?" Ginny shrugged and began waving her arms as she got involved in a discussion about the various strengths and weaknesses of the players as she saw it. Ron drifted over and the four of them were soon engaged in a lively discussion about how best to ensure Gryffindor's Quidditch success that year.

"You're pretty good yourself, Ginny," said Oliver when the discussion of the Keeper and Beater positions had been exhausted and they had thrashed out the weak spots on the Chaser's line up. "Have you ever thought of going professional?" Ginny stared at him.

"Oh mum'd go berserk!" laughed Ron. "Can you imagine it, little Ginny, professional Quidditch star and all the danger that would bring!" His laughter stopped abruptly when he saw her furious face. Harry watched with amusement as Ginny advanced on her older brother who was backing away from her, his face betraying the fact that he was more than a little scared of her.

"Little?" she hissed quietly. Ron shook his head violently.

"Well, that's just a figure of speech, er, you know because, well … er -" his eyes pleaded with Harry to say something while Ginny advanced relentlessly.

"You think it's funny that I could be good enough to play professional Quidditch?"

"No, you're good enough, absolutely positively good enough," stammered Ron as he backed into the dessert table, putting his hand right in the middle of a treacle tart. Ginny stopped advancing abruptly and swung back around to face Oliver.

"Thank you for that, Oliver, I may just consider that suggestion seriously," her eyes narrowed at Harry, "unless anyone else has any objections?" Harry shook his head vehemently.

"I think it's a great idea," he smiled. Ginny turned from the ferocious tiger that had advanced on Ron to a soft pussy cat who purred as she wound her way back into Harry's arms.

"You're just the best boyfriend ever," she sighed against his chest and Ron shot Harry a disgusted look and mouthed 'suck-up' at him behind Ginny's back.

Bill and Fleur had returned after work along with Mr Weasley. Percy arrived shortly afterwards, bringing Penelope with him. As the sun set and the lanterns that Ginny had strung up began to glow Mrs Weasley brought out the most enormous cake that Harry had ever seen. Decorated as a Quidditch pitch there were tiny little flyers enchanted to play Quidditch across the top of the cake. Ron and Harry were at first mesmerised by the tiny Quidditch game and began to cheer on the miniscule Gryffindor players as they outmanoeuvred a rather straggly Ravenclaw team. Padma sniffed at it and Cho glowered when the little Ravenclaw Seeker hit the green icing turf but Luna laughed dreamily and began to sing "Weasley is Our King". Only when Mrs Weasley suggested it was time to cut the cake did Harry see, for the first time, Ron at odds with the prospect of eating. To navigate the impasse Bill conjured up a cardboard pitch and transferred the tiny flyers to a new home. The little match lasted four days before the enchantment wore out and it remained in pride of place on Ron and Harry's bedroom floor until then.

After Harry cut the cake someone turned on the wireless and music began pouring out into the warm night. Angelina and Lee began dancing in the middle of the lawn. Laughing, several others followed suit.

"Come on Harry!" Ginny tugged at his hand pulling him towards the group of dancers. Harry shook his head and tried to avoid it but it was no use. He couldn't deny Ginny anything and he found himself in the middle of the lawn, dancing with Ginny. When a slower, more romantic song came on a short time later he showed no such reluctance in pulling her into his arms and swaying with her on the spot as he peppered her lips with little kisses, dancing one of his hands up and down her spine.

"Have you had a good birthday?"

"Yeah, I have. It's been almost … magical," Harry laughed at his own little joke. "I mean a new owl, a new broomstick, hanging out with my best friends, a party, a magnificent cake and time with my best girl. All that's missing is the fireworks."

"George was going to do fireworks," said Ginny softly, not looking at him, "but I asked him not to. I'm sorry. I just … well … last time …" she trailed off uncertainly. Harry looked at her; the sadness in her eyes was palpable. He reached up, putting his fingers on her chin and tilting her face to look at him.

"It's okay," he whispered softly. "I understand why you did it. Were you scared?" Wordlessly Ginny nodded. Harry sighed heavily and pulled her in closer. They stood there swaying for a few moments longer, listening to the song fade away. The announcer's voice came over the wireless then.

"_And it's a very happy birthday today to The-Boy-Who-Lived. Wherever he is I hope he's having a good time!"_ Nervous giggles spilled out around the garden, the guests at Harry's party knowing how much he hated his fame and that particular title but Harry simply threw back his head and laughed, twirling Ginny in his arms now that a new song was playing.

"Let's risk it," he whispered to Ginny as he pulled her close again. "Let's find George and tell him to let the fireworks out!" Pulling on her hand he dragged her over to George and convinced him to set off the fireworks he'd had planned. Harry settled himself on the grass with Ginny in his arms and watched as the first rockets flew into the air with a bang. And when the sky writing sparklers began writing 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY' in the sky in red and gold and green Harry just hugged her closer and watched as the words faded and wrote themselves over and over again.

As he lowered his head to kiss Ginny's sweet lips he thought to himself that it had been a very happy birthday indeed.


	15. Chapter 15

**Dad**

Ron and Harry pulled pillows over their heads when they heard pounding on their bedroom door the next morning. From beneath a mound of blankets Ron pointed his wand at the door and locked it. Dimly, Harry thought he heard Hermione on the other side. He pulled the covers up over the top of his pillow. He and Ron both forgot that this was Hermione they were trying to keep out.

"Oh, open up!" she shrieked as the door blasted itself off its hinges. Ron poked his head out of the blankets and looked at her warily.

"Oi, you'd better fix that! We can't go about with no door!" He missed the gleam in Hermione's eyes that Harry saw as he emerged from his own covers.

"What do you need a door for? Afraid someone might ogle you? All the way up here? Come on, get out of bed!"And Hermione swished and flicked her wand, levitating Ron's covers off him and out of the open doorway. They landed on Ginny who was coming up the stairs to see what all the fuss was about.

Harry clutched desperately at his own covers while Ron blushed furiously and grabbed a pillow to place over his lap.

"I'm getting up, I'm getting up, just … get out first … and fix our door!" Harry nodded furiously in agreement with Ron as Hermione's wand wavered over to his bed. Her hand twitched and his covers moved, exposing his chest and he grabbed at them furiously, scowling at her.

"Oh, stop it, both of you. We shared a tent for months. I've seen plenty!" huffed Hermione. Ginny had extricated herself from Ron's bedclothes and reached the bedroom, throwing the covers back at Ron who grabbed at them gratefully.

"Good view was it Hermione?" asked Ginny, her eyes twinkling with mirth. Hermione winked at her and then turned back to Ron and Harry.

"Just both of you, get your scrawny bums downstairs in five minutes," her eyes were sparkling. "I've got news!" She turned to go down the stairs and Ginny grinned at a red-faced Harry and Hermione pulled her downstairs, waving her wand at the door to repair it as she went.

"Hey!" yelled Ron after them, "our bums are not scrawny!"

The boys burst into the kitchen a few minutes later, half dressed in jeans and t shirts but without having donned shoes or brushed their hair, Harry still trying to evade Ron's demanding questions about his derriere.

"Honestly Ron!" he said exasperatedly. "I don't know if your bum is scrawny! How would I, it's not _your_ bum I spend my time looking at!" He blushed vividly as the entire kitchen went silent at his admission. Harry was ready to sink through the floor but he noticed Ginny was smiling into her breakfast.

"Yes well, I have news!" said Hermione after a lengthy pause. "I have a letter from Kingsley and he has managed to prod along the paperwork and an owl should be arriving tomorrow with all the travel details. We can leave for Sydney the day after tomorrow!"

"Brilliant!"

"Well we can if we can get a portkey. I don't really know how long it will take until we can get one booked. It might take a few weeks," Hermione clarified.

"So let's book it today then," said Harry biting into a piece of toast.

"I did try to get in touch with the Department of Magical Transportation and make an appointment with the Portkey Office but they were singularly unhelpful," complained Hermione. "Apparently no one can see me today. I suppose Saturday isn't a good day."

"I really don't understand why they wouldn't at least make an appointment," said Mr Weasley. "Ethelda Sutton is normally such a good natured woman, although she always has been a bit of a gossip. I expect they are overrun just now. No doubt everyone's looking to travel now the war is over. Saturday shouldn't make a difference; everyone's working around the clock at the moment getting things back to rights. I'm going in for a few hours myself today."

"What do you mean 'she's a bit of a gossip' exactly, Mr Weasley?" asked Harry.

"Oh, you know one of those witches always in a flap about the latest celebrity on the cover of Witch Weekly," said Mr Weasley. "She's always talking about that sort of thing. Opens all her conversations with 'Did you hear about so and so? Got themselves into a right state on the cover of this here magazine…' It can be terribly tiresome. She swore to us she saw Dixon Brinley in the Portkey Office once. As if he would deign to come in and organise his own portkey. Honestly she's always been completely turned by celebrities."

"Dixon Brinley? Who on earth is that?"

"The male answer to Celestina Warbeck," shuddered Ginny. "Parvati's been dead keen on him for ages, have you never heard her say anything about him?"

"Well, I have been a bit busy worrying about things other than wizarding world celebrities," said Harry a bit more sharply than he'd intended. Ginny looked stung. Harry sighed. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean that the way it came out."

"So," said Ron, swallowing a piece of bacon, "all we need is a celebrity to soften up this Ethelda and we're booking a portkey so fast we're out of here before you know it."

"We could drag Lockhart out of St Mungos," mused Ginny. "He's still daft enough we can simply tell him what to do, surely?"

"What about Kingsley," said Mrs Weasley, "Surely he could do something?"

"Would the Minister of Magic be celebrity enough for her, you reckon?" asked George.

"Oh, I couldn't bother Kingsley," protested Hermione. "He already pushed through all the travel paperwork."

"But what's the point of knowing high profile types like Kingsley if you don't use that to your advantage?" asserted Ron.

"She's more into the sensational type of celebrity that makes the front pages," mused Mr Weasley turning the front page of the Daily Prophet.

Harry just shook his head as he watched the picture of himself on the front of Mr Weasley's paper wave at the camera. The headline said _'Harry Potter Makes Eighteenth Birthday'_ and the small blurb underneath proclaimed his birthday celebrations so secret this paper had not been able to find out what they were but they hoped he'd had a good day.

Harry got up, and went to the fireplace. He threw a large pinch of Floo powder in and stuck his head into the fire.

"Ethelda Sutton's Office!" His head spinning madly, Harry felt a bit ill when his head finally stopped whirling and he found himself looking directly up at a rather squat witch in pale blue robes. She was staring at him as if her eyes were about to fall out of her head.

"Hello!" said Harry cheerfully. "Do you think I could make an appointment to arrange an International Portkey booking? I know you're awfully busy, but if you could just squeeze me in?"

'Y-you're H-Harry P-Potter," the witch stuttered.

"Yes, I am, you _are_ Ethelda Sutton, aren't you?" asked Harry. The witch nodded dumbly at him but did not speak. At last, his knees going numb, Harry asked, "is eleven o'clock a good time?" She nodded so Harry said he'd see her then and pulled his head out of the fireplace.

"Eleven o'clock, Hermione," he said as he shook the ash from his hair.

"Cor, how did you manage that, Harry?" asked Ron in awe. "Hermione was saying that Portkey witch was most unpleasant to her." Harry rolled his eyes and taking Mr Weasley's discarded paper he thrust the front page under Ron's nose.

"What's the point of knowing sensational front page celebrity types if you don't use that to your advantage?" Harry snatched up a piece of toast and banged out of the back door, going to sit on an old tree stump at the edge of the garden. He contemplated the garden gnomes as he ate. Harry finished his toast and decided to degnome the garden. He heard Ginny approaching as he picked up the third gnome and hurled it over the hedge.

"I really am sorry," he said as he caught a fourth gnome, "about before. I didn't mean to sound so snappy." Harry flung the angry gnome over the hedge.

"That's okay," said Ginny softly. She paused. "Ron feels a bit stupid about what he said about using high profile people to our advantage." Harry looked at her startled. She continued. "He wanted me to come out and talk to you first, reckons I'll soften you up a bit before he has to have a go at apologising."

"He thinks I'm angry?"

"Yeah, well you did leave pretty abruptly and you're throwing gnomes like you've just spent an hour in detention with Snape." Harry dropped the gnome and it bit him on his bare foot.

"Ow!" yelped Harry and he swore violently. "I'm not angry. Not with any of you. It feels a bit weird though to use my fame like that though. I never do that. Maybe I'm a bit angry at myself; for that, and for snapping at you. I'm sort of pleased with you lot though." And he looked ruefully at his foot which was bleeding copiously from the gnome's bite marks.

"Pleased?" asked Ginny as she moved to take a look at his foot. "Better come inside and let mum fix that up." The two of them started back to the house, Harry leaning on Ginny a little as he hopped along.

"Yeah, pleased," reiterated Harry. "Not one of you even thought of me. Sitting there discussing high profile, front page celebrities, and there is my picture, on the front page of the daily paper and you start wondering if you can get hold of Lockhart or about Kingsley. That's brilliant is what that is." Ginny smiled up at him from under the arm he had draped around her shoulder.

"Well, you're just Harry, aren't you?" Harry smiled at her and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders before leaning in to give her a kiss.

Mrs Weasley tutted about the state of Harry's foot and healed and bandaged it. Then she pushed him into a chair and made him sit with his foot elevated for an hour. Ron had laughed at the fact that he would defy Voldemort but be cowed by his mother.

"Oh shush, Ron," said Hermione briskly. "He likes being mothered, leave him alone." Harry blushed, embarrassed, and stuck out his tongue at Ron who reciprocated and they were both scolded by Mrs Weasley.

"No one would know you two are eighteen," Hermione sighed as she went upstairs to gather some documents for the appointment at the International Portkey office.

At precisely eleven o'clock Harry and Hermione arrived at Ethelda's Office door. It had been an interesting journey through the Ministry and Harry was rather glad Hermione had insisted that they leave early as he had been waylaid by some ten different people as he tried to make his way to Level Six. He'd been detained in a lift all the way to Level Two and finally managed to extricate himself from a well meaning wizard who just wanted to shake his hand – for ten minutes – to find Hermione had located Mr Weasley who was able to guide them back through the Levels and back up to Level Six in straight to the door of the Portkey office without further delay.

The door swung open at Hermione's knock to reveal the same squat witch in pale blue robes that Harry had seen earlier. She also appeared to be as star struck as she had been before. When Hermione asked her about booking an International Portkey to Australia as soon as possible, Harry had to repeat the request before Ethelda came out of the trace she was in. The first available Portkey to Australia was not until seven o'clock in the morning the following Friday. So it was virtually a week away but not even Harry could change the International Portkey schedule. After booking the necessary Portkeys, Harry and Hermione bade Ethelda goodbye and made their way back through The Ministry.

Once back on the streets of London Harry had a sudden thought.

"Hey, Hermione," he said as he stopped suddenly on the street outside the phone box, "how long do you think we'll be gone?"

"I really don't know, Harry," she replied thoughtfully. "It could take a couple of days to get to Yackandandah from Sydney. I've been able to find out precious little about Australian Magical transportation and we'll arrive on Friday. We may not be able to travel until after the weekend, so it might take us until Monday or Tuesday to arrive there. I think we're looking at a week, I wouldn't count on being home before the eleventh."

"Oh," was all Harry said and began walking along the street. Hermione caught up to his thought process pretty quickly.

"Oh no," she exclaimed hurrying up alongside him. "What about Ginny's birthday?" Harry nodded and stopped in the middle of the footpath, holding up several Muggles who huffed as they stepped around him. Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him across the street.

"Come on, let's go somewhere and figure this out," she said. "Next question, Grimmauld Place or the Leaky Cauldron?" They decided to go to Grimmauld Place as it was also a good chance to check out what, if any damage had been done to it by Voldemort's minions.

They found that Number Twelve was structurally sound but the Death Eaters had obviously had a field day redecorating the inside. They obviously weren't all completely stupid and had managed to dismantle Moody's curses but half the staircase was missing, most of the wallpaper in the hallway scorched off and the kitchen not at all as gleaming as Kreacher had left it. A falling beam from the dilapidated staircase narrowly missed their heads and they quickly decided head to The Leaky Cauldron instead.

When they entered however Harry was entirely unsure if that had actually been the wisest course of action. Half an hour later he made it through the pub to the bar, having shaken at least thirty different hands along the way, some of them more than once. He was reminded of the first time he came there with Hagrid. Tom greeted them warmly and tried to give them a Butterbeer on the house. After Harry had convinced him to let him pay he and Hermione sat at a little table in the corner. The table was so tiny their knees bumped and when they leant their hands on the table their fingers were touching. They did mange to get a few words out before their conversation was abruptly stopped.

"What will the Weasleys say if we are in Australia for Ginny's seventeenth birthday?"

"Oh, so you are running off to Australia then? The two of you?" Hermione's face paled as she stared at the person behind Harry's head. Harry recognised the voice. He did not want to turn around and then a camera flash went off. Harry groaned as Rita Skeeter pulled up a chair and situated herself at their tiny table.

"So, how long has this been going on then?" asked Rita sinuously, her ghastly Quick Quotes Quill hovering behind her left ear. "Heading off to Australia are we? Romantic rendezvous away from it all?"

"No, as a matter of fact, not so much," said Hermione firmly.

"You're a bit fickle, aren't you, Harry," said Rita, ignoring Hermione completely. "It was just six weeks ago you were spotted conspicuously with Miss Weasley, was it not? What does she have to say about your abrupt change of heart?"

"I haven't had a change of heart," protested Harry.

"Oh, since fourth year then?" nodded Rita in what Harry assumed she thought was a knowing way. "You've forgiven her for the dalliance with Krum then, or are the two of you still rivals?" Harry looked at Hermione desperately, a look that Rita obviously mistakenly interpreted as a look of love as she began gushing about their unhidden passion for each other and the veritable fairytale ending this was to the tale of Harry Potter.

"It's hardly the end of my life!" Harry exclaimed. He indicated himself and Hermione, "and we're not going out! We never have!"

"How does it feel to be the most eligible bachelor in the wizarding world, Harry?"

"I'm not eligible," said Harry grumpily. Rita's eyes lit up and he regretted ever opening his mouth; to say anything to her at all.

"So you are off the market then? I say again, does Viktor Krum know you have won the heart of Miss Granger?"

"Hermione, I think we need to go now," muttered Harry. Hermione nodded feverishly in agreement and they both hastily stood up and edged away from Rita Skeeter who was following them, her acid-green quill scribbling furiously in her wake as she screeched after them to enquire if Hermione was still using love potions. Harry and Hermione dove almost headfirst into the fireplace and left her far behind.

As he tumbled out of the kitchen fireplace in The Burrow Harry stumbled on the edge of the hearth and landed, sprawling on the kitchen floor just as Hermione came through and tripped over him, the pair of them lay stranded on the kitchen floor as they caught their breath. George wandered in as they lay there, panting.

"What have you two been up to then?" he asked. "You look like you've been running from some of Hagrid's half breed creations."

"Not far wrong," muttered Harry. "Which publication do you expect we'll have to keep our eye on, Hermione?"

"Better keep a look out on the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly I suppose. It's going to be horrible, isn't it?" Harry grimaced and nodded.

"Do you think we need to warn Krum?"

"Probably best." At that moment Fleur came bustling in from the living room.

"Why do you need to warn Viktor?" she asked curiously.

"Rita Skeeter," answered Hermione and Fleur nodded sagely.

"What'd she do?" asked George eagerly. Hermione explained the way she'd ambushed them.

"And so there's bound to be an article full of incriminating pictures and all sorts of terrible lies and probably something about me breaking Viktor's heart this time," she finished exasperatedly.

The Daily Prophet, unable to find out anything about Harry for weeks now and frustrated by their inability to uncover his birthday party secrets had obviously decided to print Rita's idea of truth instead. Three days later the front page sported a rather large photograph of Harry and Hermione, squashed into their little table at The Leaky Cauldron and the Headline

_LOVE HAS LONGEVITY_

_The recent hiccup in their romance not withstanding, it seems that the love affair between Harry Potter and the rather plain Miss Hermione Granger is not yet over. Spotted in London recently making plans for an overseas getaway the couple appeared cosily in love as they planned their upcoming trip to Australia._

_Harry Potter, wizarding Britain's most eligible bachelor, has denied that tag, stating very clearly to this reporter "I'm not eligible." Could it be, perhaps that this trip is more than a simple holiday and perhaps an elopement? It appears that Mr Potter's interest in the Weasley girl is no more than a passing fancy, or perhaps she too used the Love Potions which made Mr Potter so attached to Miss Granger during her undoubtedly less than enchanting years at Hogwarts. It appears that Miss Weasley did indeed use illegal means to obtain her desires._

"_She had him completely bewitched, you know," says Miss Romilda Vane, one of Miss Weasley and Mr Potter's Hogwarts classmates. "I mean one minute she's got more boys than you can count twisted around her little finger and the next she's got Harry Potter snogging her in front of everyone. That's just not like Harry at all. She had to have bewitched him. I expect she slipped it to him in some food, or chocolates or something."_

_So could it be that all along it was Miss Weasley using the Love Potions to secure herself boyfriends and not Miss Granger. Perhaps Miss Granger and Mr Potter have a relationship that has simply withstood the test of time and betrayals that all other dalliances are mere rumours or red herrings? Viktor Krum doesn't seem to think so._

"_We had a very good time when we were together," says Mr Krum, of his relationship with Miss Granger during what was her fourth year at Hogwarts. "She was a bit at odds with one of her male friends at that stage though. I do not think he approved." Undoubtedly the male friend to which he refers is Mr Potter. One can only assume that such a good time with another is what led to Mr Potter seeking the affections of other girls, for a time. One such girl reassures us that he is definitely not interested in her now. Miss Cho Chang says she once kissed Mr Potter and they enjoyed a brief relationship but that it was always undermined by Hermione Granger, lurking there in the background. She speculates that Miss Granger kept young Mr Ronald Weasley also dangling as he was never seen with any other girls until his sixth year. _

"_It is entirely possible," says Chang, "that Lavender [Brown] obtained some of the Love Potion Ginny Weasley was brewing. They were after all, in the same house at Hogwarts." Investigations by this reporter reveal that Mr Weasley is indeed going with the couple to Australia. Is he the witness to their secret wedding or is there something more to their threesome than meets the eye?_

"Imagine if she got hold of the fact that we spent most of last year alone in a tent together, some of it without Ron," sniffed Hermione as she threw the paper down on the Weasley's kitchen table. "If she can twist Viktor's innocent words like that what can she do with something that actually does look questionable!" Ron snorted into his breakfast and said something that sounded suspiciously like 'innocent, ha!' Hermione fixed him with a glare.

"There was nothing questionable about the tent, Hermione," said Harry exasperatedly.

"Well I know that and you know that and Ron knows that, but would Rita and the rest of the world believe that?"

"Good point," said Harry gloomily as he stabbed his eggs with a fork. The three of them were alone in the kitchen, Mrs Weasley having gone to rouse Ginny from her bed right before the Daily Prophet had arrived. The three of them sat picking at their breakfast morosely when the fireplace flared to life and Viktor Krum's head appeared in the flames.

"Hello Viktor," said Hermione listlessly.

"Hullo Herm-own-ninny," said the head in the fireplace. Ron snorted. "Hullo Veasley, Potter."

"Er, yeah, hi," stammered Ron blushing.

"I am sorry about that article. That voman has tvisted my vords."

"Don't worry about it Viktor, she twisted ours too," said Harry, sighing.

"Vell, should you like I take care of her?"

Hermione choked on her bacon.

"What do you mean take care of her?"

"She cannot be allowed to get avay vith this!"

"She always gets away with it!" Ron said. "What are we supposed to do?"

"Vell," mused Viktor, "in my experience it is better to refute such things rather van let them go on. You should make a statement." He swung towards Harry.

"Me?" Harry squeaked.

"Yes, you," said Viktor definitively. "Clear up the rumours, convirm or deny the trip to Auztralya, clarify your statement that you are not eligible. Vat does zat mean, anyway? You are unmarried, yes?" Harry nodded.

"I'm only eighteen! What on earth makes her think I am even thinking of getting married?" he said exasperatedly. "Who gets married at eighteen anyway?"

"I did, dear," said Mrs Weasley as she came back into the kitchen. "Oh hello Viktor dear!" she said as she noticed his head floating in the fireplace. Harry backpedalled quickly.

"Not that there's anything wrong with someone getting married at eighteen of course it's just, well I don't know anyone who did, or I thought I didn't and well I couldn't…" he trailed off uncertainly and Mrs Weasley smiled at him.

"And why are you discussing marriage anyway Harry?" she enquired as she bustled about the stove. Harry blushed to the roots of his hair; Ron looked shiftily at the floor while Hermione tried to surreptitiously hide the morning paper.

"I shall be going then," said Viktor from the fireplace. He looked at Harry. "Get a press representative." Then he was gone.

"What do you need a press representative for dear?" said Mrs Weasley briskly as she brought another plateful of piping hot bacon to the table just as Ginny and George entered the kitchen behind their father. The three newcomers slid into their seats just as Mrs Weasley spotted the edge of the Daily Prophet that Hermione had been trying to slide under her plate. Hermione wasn't quick enough and Mrs Weasley pounced on it.

"Oh good, it's finally arrived. Tuesday is household cleaning tips day," she said briskly as she rifled through the pages, completely ignoring the front page. Unfortunately this meant she held it up for the rest of the table to look at. George let out a low whistle.

"Oh, she got you two a good one. Lovely photo," he said. Ginny looked up from her eggs and promptly spat them out all over the table.

"Really Ginny," said Mrs Weasley as she lowered the paper, "you shouldn't eat so fast if you're going to spit everything out like that." Ginny said nothing but snatched the paper from her mother, smoothing out the front page. Harry and Hermione watched her warily while Ron took another bite of toast and then waved the half eaten piece in Ginny's face.

"It's a load of rubbish," he said unnecessarily. Ginny finished reading it and glared at him.

"I know that, dunderhead," she snapped, "but just you wait until I get my hands on Romilda Vane!" Mrs Weasley was peering at the front page as Ginny read it. As she finished the article she tutted and shook her head.

"That woman," she huffed. "Viktor does have a point though, perhaps you do need a press representative; someone to refute these ridiculous claims." Harry sighed and ran his hands through his hair before resting his head in his hands. Mr Weasley took the paper to have a closer look. He frowned as he read through the article.

"Well, you do need to say something," he eventually said. "She's got you eloping to Australia! And what possessed you to say you weren't eligible?"

"It was practically the only thing I even said to her and … well I'm not!" protested Harry hotly.

"Perhaps you don't think so," said Mrs Weasley gently.

"The witches will consider you eligible until you've got a ball and chain, Harry," said George. Ginny and Hermione glared at him. George continued, "and some of them will probably still consider you eligible." Harry sighed again. Ron groaned.

"What?" asked Harry. "What now?"

"Don't open any mail!" Ron barked at Hermione. "Even if it's addressed to you; especially if it's addressed to you!"

"Why not, Ron? I'm still waiting for my Hogwarts letter. I just has to get here before we leave."

"Well, you can open that one," conceded Ron grudgingly, "but don't open any others."

"Why not, Ron?" asked Hermione impatiently. "You can't tell me what to do!"

"Well it'll probably be hate mail, won't it?" reasoned Ron. "D'you fancy pus-filled fingers again?" Hermione subsided. Apparently she saw his point. Mr Weasley stood up.

"Not to worry, Harry," he said. "I'll have a chat to Kingsley today see if we can't sort this out. Okay I'm off now, see you all tonight!" He kissed Mrs Weasley on the cheek and left out the back door to Apparate to London. Ron and George left soon afterwards for Diagon Alley. They planned to open the shop as soon as they returned home from Australia, so there was a fair bit to do.

It had turned out that the whole reason Harry and Hermione had stopped in The Leaky Cauldron to discuss Ginny's birthday was a non issue for her family. Ginny had been excited to spend her birthday in a different country and although Mrs Weasley had been reluctant to let her go at first she soon realised that with most of her brothers away she wouldn't have a particularly festive birthday at home with Percy and her parents in any case. She sighed and said Ginny could still go and they'd have a special birthday dinner when they all got home. This kept things on a tight schedule to ensure all was ready for their departure and Hermione soon chivvied Harry and Ginny upstairs to finish packing.

"We aren't leaving for three days, Hermione!" protested Ginny.

"You can't leave everything to the last minute, Ginny!" huffed Hermione. "No wonder we are always late leaving for Hogwarts!" Harry gave Ginny a rueful smile as Hermione pushed Ginny into her bedroom and sent Harry up to pack his own things. Ginny evidently packed in record time, managing to satisfy Hermione, because it was only a short while later that Harry looked up from sorting his laundry to find Ginny slipping in the door. He hastily shoved the underwear in his hands behind his back. Ginny laughed as she threw herself on Ron's bed.

"I've seen it before, Potter," she smirked. "Who do you think helps my mother with the laundry?" Harry sighed and inspected the contents of his hands before tossing it into the laundry basket near the door.

"That's not the point," he grumbled good naturedly as he continued sorting his socks.

"Haven't you finished packing yet?"

"No, I have not, it's not everyone can be as speedy as you Miss Ginevra," he replied as he shook out a pair of maroon pyjamas that he realised were actually Ron's. Ginny took a good look around the room then and sighed.

"You two live in a pigsty. You know that don't you?" she said conversationally. "Hermione never warned me about that."

"Hey, it's not me who lives in a pigsty, it's Ron!"

"You can't fool me Harry; I know that particular pile over there," she pointed to a rather untidy heap by the wardrobe, "is _yours_."

"But how do you know Ron didn't _put_ it there?" he smirked at her as he wadded up a pair of jeans and lobbed it into his bag. Ginny rolled her eyes at him and climbed off the bed.

"Honestly Harry, is that how you always pack?" she asked as she began to pull all of the contents from the bag on Harry's bed. Harry started to protest and then sighed heavily before slumping onto his bed, defeated.

"Oh no you don't Potter, I'm not doing this while you laze about doing nothing! Go and sort out that festering pile over there, we need to get this stuff cleaned if you are going to take it with you," she began sorting through the items on his bed and discarding most of them into the laundry basket.

"Hey, it took me ages to pack all that!" protested Harry, swiping at a pair of boxers as they sailed through the air towards the basket. "And how do you know those are dirty?"

"I assume," Ginny stated loftily. "I can see I shall have to train you if you ever wish to call yourself not eligible." Harry studied her intently before asking softly,

"You think I'm eligible right now?" Ginny looked up at him startled. "Because I'm not. I haven't been for over a year. I've been yours. I'll always be yours." He studied Ginny who stood motionless, a pair of socks covered in Snitches dangling from her right hand. She blinked at him, and looked down at the socks in her hand.

"It's not -" she broke off, hesitating. "I hadn't really thought about it … dreamed maybe, but not serious thought." She put the socks back in the bag, mechanically following them with a pair of matching boxers and folded the jeans Harry had wadded up moments before. Harry put out a hand to stop her, causing her to look up at him.

"I might not be getting married, or even engaged, heck I'm not even planning to get engaged right now, but that doesn't make me _eligible_," he reached over and took her hand, forcing her to drop the jeans she was holding. "I might not be planning to get engaged but I know who I'm planning to marry. She already has my heart. I'm not eligible for anyone but her." He heard Ginny swallow audibly as she stared at him. Her eyes were wide and he could see the pulse beating erratically in her neck. He lifted his other hand to touch it and with his fingertips resting on her pulse he pressed a feathery soft kiss to her lips. He pulled back slightly but found his lips captured once again as Ginny launched herself at him.

He could feel her arms around his neck, her lips as they played across his own, her hair as it caressed his arms as he wound them around her waist. He opened his mouth willingly as she demanded entrance, her tongue dancing over his teeth and lips. He felt her familiar warm hands slide down his back and then creep up his shirt. His own hands traced patterns up and down her back as her tongue found his and as she stroked it with her own he realised his hands had moved south, travelling over new, curvy territory and he was pressing her hips to him as he began to chase her tongue back into her own mouth. The kiss that she had so boldly started had turned the tables on her and blindly Harry backed her towards Ron's bed and they fell on it in a tangled heap. Harry reached out to break his fall but did not break the kiss.

His hands moved back down to grasp Ginny's hips before travelling back up her sides, finding more new curves, and he melted bonelessly onto her. There was a distant bang as she tangled her feet with his and her own hands travelled to unexplored territory, pressing his hips closer to her own. Harry wasn't embarrassed this time when he realised that it was his reaction that had prompted her boldness. Neither of them saw the door swing open as they lay on Ron's bed kissing fiercely, Ginny's hands caressing Harry's considerably less than scrawny bum and his hands pinning her beneath him as his mouth plundered hers.

"It's a good thing I'm not her mother." Hermione's voice broke through their passion. Indeed it cooled it considerably. Harry broke off the kiss and they both sat up hurriedly, straightening their clothing as Hermione continued, dropping a clean pile of laundry on Harry's bed as she did so. "Equally, I am sure you are more than relieved I am not Ron either. He'd have something to say about that sort of activity on his bed, I'm sure. Now if you could finish packing?" She left, taking the dirty laundry basket with her as she went.

"Bet Ron wouldn't have a problem with it if he was the one doing it with _her_," muttered Harry. Ginny giggled nervously.

"She's right. It's a good thing she wasn't mum." She stood up and began nervously folding the jeans she had dropped earlier, refusing to look at him.

"Ginny," said Harry as he scrambled off the bed, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost control like that. It's just I … I'm sorry." He raked his hands through his hair as Ginny stuffed the jeans into the bag. She finally looked up at him.

"Oh Harry," she said, "don't be sorry. I'm not. A trifle embarrassed that Hermione walked in on us perhaps, but not sorry." She gazed up at him and the light from the window cast a glow on her face that made him catch his breath and he leaned down to kiss her softly.

"One day," he whispered, "one day I will marry you and the whole world will know I'm not eligible. Right now maybe only you know it, but that's enough." Ginny looked more than a little flushed but she smiled at him and reached out a hand to stroke his cheek.

"We'd better get packing then so we live long enough to make that dream come true," she said. "Hermione will be back in a minute to supervise. I am sure she doesn't trust us at all now." Sure enough only a few minutes later Hermione was back to make sure they kept busy packing rather than busy with each other but she couldn't stop them sneaking longing glances at each other as they finished packing Harry's bag and began straightening up the bedroom.

*******************

Wednesday night at The Burrow Mrs Weasley started running through a checklist of things to ensure that everything had been done for their trip.

"Laundry all done?" she asked briskly. Harry and Ginny stifled giggles while Ron looked at them strangely and Hermione glared at them.

"All done Mrs Weasley," she replied.

"Toiletries packed?" They all nodded. "Paperwork?"

"Really, Mrs Weasley," said Hermione, "everything has been taken care of. All we need do is show up to the Portkey at the right time and we're set. Bill and Fleur have a separate Portkey for convenience but we should arrive in Sydney at around the same time, late afternoon Friday."

"And you know where your Portkey is?"

"Stoatshead Hill, same as for the World Cup."

"Money!" said Mr Weasley suddenly. "Have you got enough money? If you're arriving in the middle of a Muggle airport I expect you'll need some Muggle money. Oh you'll be able to find out how planes stay up won't you?"

"I hadn't thought about that," cried Hermione in alarm as if forgetting anything at all was a crime. "We'll have to go tomorrow and change some Galleons at Gringotts. Do they do exchanges to Australian dollars there?" Mr Weasley nodded.

"They'll exchange anything at Gringotts. Don't know how fair the exchange will be."

"How will we know how much to exchange," fretted Hermione. "I did a bit of research about it but it's very confusing because all the exchange rates changes so frequently and I don't know how much we'll need. I suppose we'll have to convert it to pounds first and then dollars, or do you think they'll go straight from galleons to dollars? They do use galleons in Australian wizarding society, don't they? I hadn't even thought!"

"Calm down Hermione," said Harry as he swallowed a forkful of treacle tart. "It's not an issue anyway. I said I'd go and see Teddy tomorrow before I left but just take Ginny with you, change whatever you think we'll need and then some. Grab some extra galleons too so we don't have to worry about wizarding money either, okay?"

"What's Ginny got to do with it?" asked George. Harry didn't answer and shoved another forkful of treacle tart into his mouth. Eventually Ron, throwing an evil look at Harry, replied.

"Harry gave her access to his family jewels. She can go down anytime she wants." Harry aimed a hard kick at him under the table and glared while George paled and looked at Harry suspiciously.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked. Ginny was glaring at Ron, blushing to the roots of her hair.

"My vault, George, relax," said Harry. He smiled wryly.

"Got you a beauty though," beamed Ron. "That's payback, that is." George threw a dinner roll at his head and looked pointedly at Harry.

"Yeah well, just you see that she doesn't have access to anything else!"

"Must we discuss this at the dinner table?" asked Mrs Weasley fretfully, looking frantically to Mr Weasley for support. For his part Mr Weasley was buried in some parchment he had pulled out as soon as he'd finished his own treacle tart and only nodded along absently to the conversation going on around him. Ginny suddenly exploded.

"Must we talk about this at all? Why is it any of your business anyway?" she demanded. "What I choose to do in my sex life has got nothing to do with you!" Mrs Weasley looked frantically at her husband and slapped his arm to get his attention.

"Say something Arthur!" Mr Weasley looked up to see Ron and George glaring at Harry who was bright red and Ginny who looked as furious as anyone had ever seen her.

"Yes, yes, she's quite right," he said forcefully, clearly not wishing to get on the wrong side of his daughter who was evidently working up a head of steam.

"You have got to be joking, dad!" exclaimed George. "She can't just … they can't … and you're letting her go off to Australia with him!" Ginny leapt out of her chair.

"How do you know what we do? It's none of your business!" she screeched. Mr Weasley looked puzzled. It was obvious he had no idea what was really going on. Harry looked at Ginny who was furiously glaring at George and could tell she was moments away from getting her wand out.

"We don't _have_ a sex life, George," he said without showing a hint of the embarrassment he was actually feeling. "But she's right, it_ is_ none of your business." He saw Ginny look at him and then subside back into her seat as he stared at George, daring him to comment.

"Who wants more treacle tart?" asked Mrs Weasley a little louder than was necessary.

"No thanks, Mrs Weasley," said Harry quietly as he rose from his chair. "Excuse me." He slipped quietly out the back door without saying anything else to anyone. He wandered across the garden and stopped at the shed, leaning his shoulder against it, looking up into the darkening sky were stars twinkled faintly, hands in his pockets. He turned as he heard someone coming across the garden behind him.

"They'll look different in Australia, won't they," said Mr Weasley as he stood next to Harry looking at the sky.

"Yeah, Hermione read about it."

"Come help me in the shed, Harry," said Mr Weasley as he unlocked the door and pushed it open. "I had to move the motorbike in here. I think Molly still doesn't know, she can't tell the difference between all these Muggle bits." Privately Harry thought Mr Weasley might have been hoping a bit much to think that his wife did not know he had practically a whole flying motorbike in his shed but he followed Mr Weasley into the shed which was crammed with the oddest assortment of items that Harry had ever seen.

Along one wall was a series of boxes and Harry could see that they were full of plugs. Three old toasters were sitting on the bench at the far end of the shed and no less than six electric frying pans littered the edges of the floor. Extension cords, table lamps and old digital clocks were dangling from a beam that ran the length of the shed and a bar fridge was stuffed in one corner, the door hanging open to reveal that it housed approximately twelve screwdrivers, an electric drill and a box of nuts and bolts. Harry thought he could see a television and a computer keyboard on another bench but he was only guessing because whatever it was had been taken apart thoroughly. Pieces of Sirius's motorbike were lying haphazardly in the middle of the floor and a rusty lawnmower was shoved behind the door.

Harry wandered around the shed uncertainly, staring at the things that Mr Weasley tinkered with in his spare time; while Mr Weasley himself lit the lamps scattered around the shed and pulled a dusty box out from under one of the benches. Digging through it, and tossing aside a worn out cordless kettle, four packs of Muggle playing cards and what was once a Discman, Mr Weasley extracted two cans of soft drink. Setting them on the bench he refilled the box with the other items, added one of the electric frying pans for good measure and pushed it back under the bench.

"Now, Harry," he said eagerly, "can you tell me what these do?"

"They're drinks, Mr Weasley," he said.

"Ah, splendid! Splendid!" crowed Mr Weasley. "I told Perkins that is what they were!" Harry smiled at his exuberance.

"Would you like me to show you how they open?" he offered. Mr Weasley nodded eagerly.

"Do you think we could drink them?"

"I guess so," Harry studied the cans, "although they're normally served chilled. How long have you had them?"

"Oh, got them in the last raid before things went completely rubbish after Easter and we went into hiding at Muriel's," replied Mr Weasley as he applied a cooling charm to the cans. "Middle of The New Forest and the snacks in one of the pubs started flying around the room; most disconcerting for the Muggles. We had to collect a whole lot of things, sort out a right mess that time. These came back with the enchanted snack food but we weren't able to find anything odd about them at all." Mr Weasley seized the cans and sat down on the floor in a clear spot between the lawnmower and what looked like the exhaust pipe of the motorbike. Hesitating, Harry sat down, cross legged opposite him. Mr Weasley handed him one of the cans.

"You open that one and I'll copy you," he said. Harry grasped the can and levered the ring up a little, Mr Weasley copying him exactly. When Harry cracked his can open by pulling up hard on the ring and pushing the end down the can's contents spurted out the top and drenched Mr Weasley in a foamy mess. Harry was mortified. Clearly Mr Weasley relished it as part of the experience; because he simply laughed and cracked open his own can, showering Harry with orange foam.

"Most people try to avoid that actually," murmured Harry wryly as he shook the fizzing liquid off his hands. "Must've been a bit shaken up."

"I think we're all a bit shaken up lately," said Mr Weasley as he used his wand to siphon up the spilled fizzy drink. He then took a sip and laughed delightedly as the bubbles tickled on the way down. Harry sat staring at the can in his hands, contemplating Mr Weasley's words. "All right Harry?" He looked up at Mr Weasley who was looking at him for all the world like a concerned father.

"Yeah," he croaked out. "It's just I thought things would be easy now but sometimes I wonder if they've just been replaced by different, confusing things. At least it was straightforward before. Rid world of Voldemort, live happily ever after." He laughed bitterly.

"What's confusing, Harry?" asked Mr Weasley gently. Harry fixed his eyes on the lawnmower, fiddling with the can in his hands.

"What to do now," he whispered. "I sort of feel like I am supposed to help fix things up but I really don't know how, or if I want to. I don't know anything about the Ministry or politics. I want to finish my education but is it silly to go back to Hogwarts? One moment I feel a bit too old to be there and the next like I need it's a safe haven." He looked up at Mr Weasley who nodded at him to continue.

"I'd still like to be an Auror but it's like I'm not old enough yet," Harry shook his head. "Which is just ridiculous because normally that's what I'd be doing this year, starting Auror training, and I am of age, have been for a year. One minute I feel really old, like I have been everywhere and done everything … I think dying and spending time on the other side does that to you. The next minute I feel like I haven't done anything, that I know nothing." He stopped, staring hopelessly at Mr Weasley.

"I'll tell you a secret, Harry," said Mr Weasley, his eyes looking suspiciously wet. "It's like that for everyone. Not exactly the same obviously, but sometimes I think being a grown up means that you know you know nothing. Thinking you know everything is reserved for youth.

"Molly and I ran away and got married during the first war. We were eighteen, the same age as you. At the time I was so sure it was the right thing to do. We were adults, we could handle it. As soon as I slipped that ring on her finger and we were alone it hit me. I was absolutely petrified. What had we done? I felt responsible for her now, her safety, her happiness. We'd gone off and gotten married without her family knowing. Not that they didn't approve of course but it was terribly exciting, going off secretly like that. Perhaps it wasn't the smartest move I ever made. Marrying Molly certainly was but running off to do it … I advise you not to do the same. Molly's temper is a lot bigger than her own mother's." Mr Weasley smiled as Harry felt a slight flush infuse his cheeks.

"How did you know you were ready to get married, Mr Weasley?" asked Harry.

"Well, I didn't, not really," Mr Weasley replied. "I think in the end I took a leap of faith. It was Molly who knew."

"Do women know everything?" sighed Harry. Mr Weasley threw his head back and laughed.

"You've spent a lot of time with Hermione, son. She's uncommonly gifted and very smart," he answered. "No women don't know everything. But sometimes it would be a lot easier if they did, wouldn't it?" Harry nodded in agreement. He stared at the can still in his hand before taking a sip. Swallowing, he looked at Mr Weasley.

"Is it possible though, for one woman to know everything about you? Know you inside out and back to front?" Harry asked him. "You know, even if you still can't figure them out?"

"Eventually you can. I think they often just get there first." Harry nodded his head vehemently before taking another sip of his drink. Mr Weasley studied him carefully for a moment and Harry looked up.

"I think you know Ginny better than you think you do," Mr Weasley said. Harry sat motionless; they were no longer talking in vague, general terms. They were no longer talking about growing up, relationships and women as a whole, but specifically about Ginny. "Why did you speak up to George before?"

Harry was silent, thinking. Had he done the wrong thing, said the wrong thing? Mr Weasley said he knew Ginny better than he thought he did so did that mean he'd done the right thing? Eventually he shrugged.

"Because Ginny was about to hex him," he answered honestly. "She was going to hex him for invading her privacy and trying to tell her what to do. She hates when her brothers try and tell her what to do, even if they're right." Mr Weasley tilted his head to one side, studying Harry intently.

"You think George is right?"

"Yeah," Harry's voice was almost a whisper. "That sort of relationship is … not something either of us are ready for. But it isn't for him to decide. Ginny was embarrassed and she doesn't want those sort of … details discussed as a family at the dinner table. Not that there's anything to discuss." Harry sighed heavily.

"See, you do know her," stated Mr Weasley. Harry looked up at him in surprise. "She lets you defend her. That's rare for Ginny. She does it partly because she knows you well enough, you like defending people, and partly because she trusts you. She trusts you to know where she's coming from. Instead of telling George to butt out on your own account and taking over you backed _her_ up.

"You know her well enough to know which part had really upset Ginny and the best way to defend her. You put aside your own embarrassment to help her and defend her, not your own actions or worries. Being questioned over your intentions and activities with the woman you love by her brothers is never very fun. The automatic reaction is to defend and justify yourself. To know what to do for _her_ is something special." Harry got the distinct impression that Mr Weasley could remember a time when he'd defended himself to his wife's brothers. He felt a sudden kinship to Mr Weasley.

"I thought at one point they were going to hurt me," the older man mused. "When I took Molly home to break the news that we'd eloped to her parents her brothers were waiting for me. It's a good thing Bill didn't arrive for several years, they were positive we'd got ourselves into … well a spot of bother. Instead of standing up for my wife I defended my own actions.

"She was of age, I was of age, it was nothing to do with them. They had nothing to do with what I chose to do thank you very much. I asserted my right to do as I pleased with my wife. Not once did I think to defend Molly's right to privacy or to remember that it was not just my actions I was describing or justifying. They took her aside next and had a word or two with her. If I'd spoken to them properly in the first place …" Harry contemplated what Mr Weasley had said.

"I love Ginny," he said suddenly to his own surprise. He'd not meant to blurt that out right then. Mr Weasley nodded. "I can't be away from her again. If that's the only reason I'm going back to Hogwarts, is that a selfish reason? Maybe I could be doing so much more helping Kingsley or something."

"Even if it is a selfish reason," said Mr Weasley, "and I don't think it is; I still think it's the best thing for you to do. Even if that is only because she couldn't bear to be away from you again either and I think she'll need you if she's to go back there again. If you look at it that way, it's not selfish at all." Harry stood up suddenly, spilling some of the drink in his hands and it made a small, fizzing puddle on the floor. He turned to examine the pieces of the motorbike noting the scratches along a piece of what was possibly once a mudguard. Something Mr Weasley just said made him pause.

"It was hard for her at school last year wasn't it?" he asked as he turned to look at Ginny's father and saw the pain briefly flash across his face. Harry ran his hand haphazardly through his hair. "Neville told us a bit about it and we heard some things but I haven't really given much thought to what it was like at Hogwarts last year. There's been so much to think about, so much to deal with and there's still stuff I haven't even thought about.

"I mean we've talked about it a bit but Ginny only ever told me how she and Neville and Luna defied the Death Eaters. She's never let on that it still hurts. How did I miss that?"

"Probably because she hasn't shown you that. Her biggest hurt was being away from you and so the biggest part is healed because you've come home," said Mr Weasley as he too rose from the floor and walked over to look out of the shed's tiny window at the stars now twinkling brightly in the night sky. "Some of the things that happened at Hogwarts last year are going to mean it'll take effort for the castle to seem like home again. She's happier now than she's ever been but going back there after last year …"

"Professor Snape did his best to protect the students," said Harry and Mr Weasley nodded. He picked up one of the toasters and rubbed the shiny metal side of it. Harry gulped down more of the drink in his hand and they stood in silence for a moment.

"Look after my baby girl, Harry," Mr Weasley said suddenly, putting down the toaster and turning to look Harry in the eye. "The only thing I want for all of my children is for them to be happy, but Ginny … Ginny is something special. When you have a daughter you'll know what it's like. That little red-headed princess will capture your heart and you'll be the only man in her life, the only man who can make her smile, make her happy. Then one day you'll realise she's given her heart to someone else, another man and he's the one who makes her smile. If you're lucky, like I am, you'll be able to hand her happiness over to him and know that he'll take as much care of her smile as you always have. "

"Once I never thought I'd even live long enough to get married or have children," said Harry. "But I would like to, very much. I haven't thought much about it. I know what I feel when I'm with Ginny, but it's about more than how you feel in the moment isn't it?"

"Marriage is definitely about more than the heat of the moment," agreed Mr Weasley. He paused and then said, "it will be the most amazing experience in the world to share yourself intimately, when you are both ready." And Harry knew then that Mr Weasley was bestowing on him perhaps the most precious thing he had. His daughter and her happiness, it was in his hands now. But with that gift came responsibilities, ones that Harry would gladly bear. He felt no embarrassment as he had earlier but looked Mr Weasley in the eye and asked,

"Does she tell you when you're both ready then?" and Mr Weasley laughed. Harry smiled and continued, "because I have absolutely no idea!"

"Some people rush into it," began Mr Weasley sobering slightly, leaning against the bench behind him. "For me I knew that I could only … claim that part of her once I made the bigger commitment to be her husband. There's no going back afterwards so I wasn't prepared to take that step until after I'd proven my commitment in a way that was … more permanent. I knew a long time before we got engaged that Molly was the only woman for me but I figured if I wasn't ready to be her husband and shoulder that responsibility I wasn't ready to bear the bigger responsibility and take her to bed either." Mr Weasley blushed slightly then and Harry grinned at the candid way he'd spoken.

"So you think it should wait for marriage then?" asked Harry.

"I certainly waited until then because I know it was the right decision despite Molly's protests," answered Mr Weasley, "Not everybody waits. It's what I advised my sons. I'm not your father though ..."

"Well, you're _her _father!" said Harry blushing profusely. He sighed loudly and sat on a nearby upturned packing crate. "I wonder what my father would have said …" A lone tear trailed unbidden down his cheek as he realised he had no idea and no one left to tell him what his father would have said. Mr Weasley crouched down in front of Harry and tenderly wiped away the tear.

"I don't know what he would have said but I know that he loved you and I know what it is like to love your son and I can tell you that he would have only wanted for you to be happy," Mr Weasley paused, reaching out a hand to lift Harry's head up to look at him. "And he'd want to be sure that the woman who stole his son's heart from his wife was worthy of that affection. Maybe I am biased but I think James Potter would have been pleased with the woman who holds your heart in her hands." Harry held Mr Weasley's gaze steadily.

"She could shatter it into a million pieces," he breathed.

"Terrifying, isn't it?"

"Worth it though," said Harry and Mr Weasley nodded in agreement.

"I know I'm not your father, Harry but -" and Mr Weasley found himself unable to finish his sentence because Harry and put his arms around him and given him the same sort of heartfelt hug he had given Mrs Weasley on his birthday last year. Mr Weasley returned the hug and then they both stood up.

"Thanks, Mr Weasley."

"It's probably time we turned in, son," he said as he led Harry out of the shed door. Looking thoughtfully at Harry he said, "Mr Weasley's getting to be a bit formal. You can call me Arthur if you want to." Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and began tracing a circle in the dirt with his toe, staring at the swirling dirt and the puffs of dust he could see floating up in the lingering lamplight as Mr Weasley snuffed them out.

"You keep calling me 'son', d'you think … well … would it be okay if sometimes I could call you Dad?" Harry said, barely audible. He hurried on. "I don't think my dad would mind and you're the only one I'll ever know –" Mr Weasley put his hand on Harry's shoulder and Harry looked up at his face to see the older man with tears gathering in the corners of his twinkling eyes.

"I'd be honoured, son."


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: I haven't left any before now because I always forget but I thought I should stop, say hi and let you know that I am glad those of you still with me here are enjoying the story. (I'm assuming you do since you are still here :P ) Some people have said "Why send them to Australia?" Well partly because the scenes in my head wouldn't go away and partly because I wanted to use the fabulous back drop of my homeland for some of the themes in my story. I hope you enjoy the brief sojourn DownUnder :D .

**Somewhere Over the Rainbow**

When Harry and Mr Weasley re entered the house they found George sitting quietly at the kitchen table. He looked up when they came in and his eyes found Harry's.

"Sorry, mate," he said, without hesitation. "I shouldn't have made any of that my business." Harry shrugged.

"It's Ginny you need to apologise to."

"I know, I already have," replied George. Harry smiled and Arthur patted him on the back before leaving the room and heading up the stairs.

"Then we don't have a problem," Harry said to George, sitting at the table. "How are the renovations to the shop going? Are you on track to reopen as soon as we get back?"

"Sure are," said George enthusiastically. "Ron's brilliant with planning this sort of stuff. He's even got a few good product ideas!"

"He surprises you sometimes, doesn't he?" laughed Harry. "Hey, can I come and help, you know … if you need it, when you reopen?" George looked at him in surprise and raised an eyebrow in question. Harry looked at the table and began tracing the grain of the wood with one finger.

"I just want to spend some time with Ron, you know?" Harry looked up.

"So that's why you haven't moved into Percy's room?" asked George. Harry nodded.

"We've never spent more than a few weeks apart since we were eleven. That fight we had over the tournament in fourth year was torture. I'm going to miss him while I'm at Hogwarts," said Harry, looking back down at the table. "I reckon I've spent enough nights sleeping alone in my own room."

"Yeah, it is hard," said George distantly, "sleeping alone. I've never slept alone before." Harry didn't know what to say to that. He would miss Ron for a while, but George had lost his best friend and roommate forever. The two of them sat in silence until Ron came clattering in about five minutes later. He looked a little flushed and his hair was so rumpled it was messier than Harry's.

"Hello chaps!" he said enthusiastically as he headed to the pantry to retrieve something to eat. "Isn't it a beautiful evening?" George looked at Harry and smirked. Harry felt the undeniable urge to _giggle_ and suppressed it quickly.

"And how is Hermione, Ron?" asked George, a sly smile on his face.

"Oh," breathed Ron as he poured a glass of pumpkin juice, "she's brilliant." The pumpkin juice overflowed the glass and poured over the table. Ron shook his head and lazily cleaned the spill up with his wand before sitting at the table and taking a swig before sighing dramatically. George and Harry watched him barely suppressing smirks.

"So, you've had a good evening then, Ron?" asked Harry.

"Yeah," Ron smiled distantly, "you?"

"Yeah, I did actually," said Harry, smiling faintly. Ron suddenly sobered and looked at Harry critically.

"But didn't dad drag you into his shed for a … _chat_?"

"Yeah, he did," said Harry, perplexed.

"And this chat did not bother you?" enquired George with a frown. Harry shook his head, puzzled.

"Why would it?"

"He didn't give you dire warnings about respecting our baby sister's honour and keeping certain … things to yourself?"

"Or an embarrassingly detailed talk about how women think and, er … function?"

"No," said Harry slowly looking at both of them with raised eyebrows. George and Ron looked at each other before Ron turned to Harry.

"So what _did_ he say?" Harry smiled and stood up, heading for the door.

"That women are smarter than us," he tossed over his shoulder as he headed for the hallway and up the stairs. He didn't get very far before he heard Ron and George thumping after him.

"What?"

"Dad said that?"

"Among other things," replied Harry. "If you two leave me alone long enough for me to say goodnight to Ginny, I might be more specific." They had reached the second landing now and Harry knocked on Ginny's door. She poked her head out a few seconds later and then squawked and slammed the door in his face. Harry stared at the door in confusion.

"He did not say _anything_ that explains _that_, however." Ginny opened the door a few moments later.

"Sorry," she said breathlessly. "I wasn't decent." Harry wound his arms around her waist, pulling her close and leant forward to whisper in her ear.

"I wouldn't have minded."

"Maybe not, but they would have," said Ginny nodding towards Ron and George who were still standing on the landing behind Harry.

"I just wanted to say goodnight," explained Harry. "If they want to watch …" and he bent his head and kissed her. Knowing her back was to her door and therefore not in view of her brothers, Harry let his hands drift downwards as they kissed. He could feel Ginny smile against his mouth but he felt alarmed when he realised her hands were heading to the corresponding area of his body, and his back was in full view of her brothers. He pulled away sharply and she giggled.

"I really don't need to see this," decided Ron loudly. "I'll see you upstairs mate." Harry turned to see Ron's retreating back and George standing there smirking at them. Suddenly George's face fell and he stammered something about going to bed and he too vanished up the stairs. Turning back to Ginny Harry noticed she was putting her wand away. He shook his head a smile playing across his lips. It seemed George had forgotten she wasn't of age and couldn't use that wand in any case.

"Now, where were we," murmured Ginny as she reached up and pulled his head down to hers.

When Harry arrived back in his and Ron's room some ten minutes later he found both Ron and George waiting for him. Harry, knowing his hair was likely messier than usual, attempted to smooth it down, the whole time knowing he was fighting a losing battle.

"Give it up, Potter," said Ron from his supine position on his bed. "We know what you've been up to, apparently with the all clear from our father." Ron was looking at Harry with an expression halfway between amusement and outrage. Harry just shook his head and pulled his shirt over his head, rummaging about for his pyjamas in the pile of clothes next to his bed. George had made himself comfortable on Harry's bed and was now looking quizzically at Harry.

"Seriously, what did Dad say?" asked George. Harry thought for a moment before replying.

"He said he advised all his sons to wait for marriage, but that he's not my father," Harry grinned waiting for their reaction. What Ron actually said surprised and annoyed him.

"Well then, you're just lucky! I got an entire father-son lecture about respecting women and their bodies and waiting was more than _advice_!"

"Lucky?" asked Harry hollowly. He could see George from the corner of his eye sit up abruptly. "You really think it's lucky that my father isn't around to talk to me about stuff like this? To give me his advice?" Ron was still lying on his bed, hands linked behind his head, looking at the ceiling.

"Yeah, it's embarrassing …" shuddered Ron. Harry just stared at Ron before abruptly turning and yanking the door open and walking out onto the landing.

"Yeah it's real lucky that I have no idea what my Dad would have said about it, that I can't ask_ him _about intimacy and feelings and what to do with the rest of my life," shouted Harry as he stood trembling, shirtless, his pyjama top hanging from his left hand, on the landing. Ron sprang out of the bed and started towards him.

"I didn't mean-" Harry just shook his head fiercely and thundered down the stairs. He could hear George calling Ron an 'insensitive git' as they scrambled down the stairs after him. He dimly heard Ron answer that it wasn't the first time and Harry remembered the awful words they'd had over pretty much the very same thing last year. The hatred he'd felt then seemed to surge back and he wanted to get as far away from Ron as possible. Harry landed with a thump on the second landing having leapt down the last few steps and Ginny's door flew open but he paid her no heed as he yanked open Percy's door, stepped inside and slammed it behind him with a satisfying bang. It banged open, hitting the wall, only seconds later. Harry spun around to see Ron standing in the doorway.

"Just go away, Ron," shouted Harry. "Just leave me alone!"

"Harry, I'm sorry. It just came out all wrong. Of course I don't think that's lucky."

Then Mrs Weasley was there telling them to keep it down. At the same time George was telling Ron he had a gift for saying stupid things. Ginny was standing, wide eyed, in her bedroom doorway. Harry glared at Ron, his arms crossed. Hermione had her wand out, ready to throw a shield between them.

"I don't think that's lucky," Ron repeated softly. "I'm sorry." Harry relaxed a little, dropping his arms and sighing. Ron grinned at Harry.

"In fact I'd think it was the end of the world if I'd just had that chat with _Hermione's dad_," he said. Harry regarded him for a moment before he burst out laughing.

"He was really great about it, Ron," said Harry. "I just wish things were different sometimes." Harry noticed that Arthur had joined the rest of the family on the landing.

"Everything alright, boys?" he asked.

"Yeah, everything's great, thanks Dad," said Harry and Arthur beamed at him. Ron gave him an odd sort of look but Harry had no time to ask him about it because Ginny pushed her way past Ron and her father and into the room.

"What happened?" she asked as she reached him and raised a hand to trace the oval shaped scar near his heart. Harry suddenly realised he was standing there, shirtless, something he had steadfastly avoided, even while swimming. His pyjama top was in his hand and he hurriedly started to pull it over his head. Ginny was still looking at him steadily when his head emerged from the neck of the pyjama top. Harry sighed inwardly. He looked at Hermione who looked worried and was biting her lip.

"It's a long story," he replied, avoiding Ginny's gaze.

"Well, give me the short version," she said. Harry looked at her then and she was looking at him with a mixture of understanding and expectation. He remembered his own vow that he would share everything with her and he knew that this was more important, more precious to her than access to his vault. He took a deep breath and looked at Hermione who nodded imperceptibly as if encouraging him.

"It was from a … battle I suppose you'd call it," he started, "with Voldemort's snake, at Christmas. I was wearing a locket that he'd made a Horcrux out of and it … well I guess you could say it put up a bit of a fight when the snake tried to sort of strangle me."

"Sort of?" questioned Hermione, eyebrows raised, "you have a terrible habit of down playing things, Harry." He just looked at her and shrugged.

"I'm just lucky it's the only scar I've got from trying to destroy one of those things," he said. He felt decidedly odd standing in Percy's old bedroom in his jeans and pyjama top discussing Horcruxes casually with Hermione. "I'm lucky I'm not dead." He said it so bluntly that Ginny winced and he cursed himself inwardly and reached out for her. As he pulled her into his arms she wound her own arms around his neck and clung to him tightly.

"When you think about it, you only did destroy one anyway," mused Ron, heedless of their audience and his sister still hanging from Harry's neck.

"Well that just proves I didn't need to do it alone, doesn't it?" Harry said as he realised he'd not actually spoken of many of the past year's activities since they'd come home. He wondered how many questions everyone had been dying to ask him and suddenly felt an overwhelming gratitude that they had refrained. Arthur cleared his throat. He seemed hesitant.

"Who destroyed the other ones then?" he asked.

"Ron, Hermione, Professor Dumbledore, Neville …" Harry trailed off.

"He had five?" asked Arthur faintly. Harry shook his head.

"No, seven, although he didn't mean to make seven, he meant to make six," answered Harry, stroking Ginny's back. He continued softly. "I suppose you'd say Crabbe died destroying one. Professor Dumbledore was killed by one."

"That's still only six. Who destroyed the seventh?" asked Mrs Weasley hesitantly.

"Well, er … he did," answered Harry hesitantly. Taking a deep breath he looked directly at her. "When he tried to kill me, he destroyed it." Mrs Weasley went white as she realised the implications and her eyes flicked up to the scar on his forehead. "The only one I destroyed was his diary and that was pure dumb luck. That one was actively trying to kill _me_ and if it hadn't been for Fawkes …" Harry felt Ginny stiffen in his arms and he trailed off, tightening his arms around her. She fought him for only a moment before he felt her slump into him and her tears wet his neck. An oppressive silence hung over the room.

"Well, this is an odd time for this all to come out," remarked Ron eventually. It was punctuated by a loud sob from Ginny. Harry didn't notice as they all withdrew and he cradled Ginny in his arms as he sank onto Percy's old bed and held her while she cried.

"I'm okay, I'm still here. It wasn't your fault," he murmured into her hair as her sobs subsided. She still clung to his neck like a limpet, quite uncharacteristically. He shifted uneasily as she quietened and stilled. Suddenly she spoke, whispering into the stillness.

"I know. I try not to think about it. I don't like to think about you hurt or dying," she said. "And last year, at school … I didn't know where you were or how you were … I mean I knew you were in danger but … I'm sorry. I guess I got a little overwhelmed." She pulled away from him abruptly and stood up, wiping the tears from her cheeks and pretending she hadn't just broken down in his arms. Harry reached out and took her hand, pulling her back to him.

"Tell me about last year," he said softly. "I used to think about Hogwarts. I used wonder what it would be like to be there, tucked up in a nice warm bed, having dinner in the Great Hall. To be with you. I would get out the map and watch your name. Willing you to know I was thinking of you, hoping you were all right. But it wasn't as simple as that, was it?" Ginny shook her head. She seemed to be considering something.

"At first it was a bit of an adventure," she admitted as she wandered to look out of the tiny window. "It wasn't too bad before Christmas and I had Neville and Luna. Neville told you we reformed Dumbledore's Army together?" Harry nodded, sensing more understatement, then realised she was looking out of the window and couldn't see him so he got up and slid his arms around her waist.

"Yeah, we heard things along the way and Neville told us some of what you'd all been up to," he said softly. "It didn't sound anything like being tucked up in nice safe beds."

"Well, no, we kept getting out of bed," mused Ginny and Harry chuckled as she turned in his arms. "I wish I'd had a map I could have seen your name on, so I would have known you were safe. I used to throw myself into all the things we planned to I wouldn't have to think about how you might be …" She stopped, staring distantly over his shoulder.

"Well I knew where you were and I knew you were alive but I didn't know how you were," said Harry, stroking her hair. "Later Neville told us matter-of-factly that being pure blood meant they only hurt you, not kill you. It was, quite frankly, disturbing." Ginny laughed a short, sharp laugh. It sounded harsh in the stillness of the night.

"Some days I don't know how I am going to go back," she admitted. "It was horrible and there were days I thought Snape had it in for me specifically. He saw me looking at a picture of us once and he went nuts. It was weird actually."

"You have a picture of us?"

"Yeah, Colin took it once when we weren't looking. We were sitting outside, near the lake," she smiled. "He sent me a copy for my birthday. Hang on." Ginny scurried out of the room and returned moments later with a dog eared photograph that showed the two of them sitting close under a tree. As he watched himself bend his head down and press a kiss to Ginny's lips, Harry realised that this was the same tree under which his father had taunted Snape when they were fifteen.

"He saw that and just went nuts. I got three week's worth of detentions for looking at something that wasn't a text book on school grounds," said Ginny. "Normally he sent me to Hagrid for detentions. Not this time. I always wondered if he had something against the two of us. He seemed to really hate seeing us together, remember he gave you all those detentions when we started going out?" Harry nodded absently, watching as his photo self gave photo Ginny another kiss. He didn't miss the fact that Ginny did not reveal what her detention was but he didn't think now was the right time to ask about it. As he watched the photograph it struck him how much they looked like his parents when he could no longer see their faces clearly and suddenly he knew why Snape had snapped on seeing the photo.

"He wasn't seeing us," said Harry softly as he handed her the photo. "He never saw me. He always saw my dad. He was watching my dad steal my mum away from him." Ginny contemplated the photo for a moment.

"That makes sense," she murmured. "It wasn't safe at Hogwarts anymore. I'm worried I won't feel safe when we go back. I worry that memories will make it seem unfriendly; which is stupid." She grimaced and Harry shook his head.

"It's not stupid," he said as he pulled her into a hug. "But I'll be there, I promise. We can make new memories … all over the castle." And he bent his head to kiss her. Only a few moments later, and much too soon in Harry's opinion, she pulled away and looked up at him, her eyes once again twinkling with concealed mischief.

"So … you had a chat with Dad?" Harry grinned at her.

"Yes," he said, "yes I did. It was most … illuminating." She cocked her head to one side and studied him intently.

"In what way was it illuminating, exactly?" Harry's smile softened and put his hand up to caress her cheek as he looked at her. She closed her eyes and turned her face to nuzzle the palm of his hand.

"I think he was warning me that you would try and seduce me," he whispered. Ginny's eyes shot open in shock and her jaw fell open. Harry chuckled at her expression. He trailed his hand down her neck, across her shoulder and down her arm. He then moved to her hip, letting his hand drift lower until his gentle pressure urged her to press her body towards his own. His other hand wandered up her back and he pulled her lips to his to capture her them in another kiss. As he pulled away he said, ever so softly,

"He needn't have worried – I have a very strong will." Harry released Ginny then and she stumbled back a step, her eyes flew open and with her hair mussed, lips swollen and face flushed and Harry wondered for a moment just how strong his will actually was.

"Goodnight, Ginevra Weasley," he said as he backed towards the door. Her full name seemed to bring her out of her trance and as she looked at him Harry looked back steadily. "I love you." He saw her smile as he went around the corner and up the staircase and he suddenly felt euphoric. He bounded up the stairs and threw open the door to the tiny bedroom under the attic. Ron was sitting in his bed, reading a Quidditch magazine and he looked up as Harry stood there. Ron smirked at him.

"Hello, Ron! Isn't it a beautiful evening?"

"And how is Ginny, Harry?"

"Oh," breathed Harry as he flopped onto his own bed, "she's brilliant!" And they both laughed.

************************

Mrs Weasley seemed very teary the next morning at breakfast as she piled their plates high with bacon, eggs, sausages and toast but none of them paid a lot of attention as they raced through their breakfast and prepared to leave for the day. Harry was planning to visit Teddy before he went to Australia. George and Ron were going to do some final work in the shop before they left the next morning and Hermione and Ginny would join them there after they went to the bank. They all tried to get Harry to come to the shop after he visited Teddy but were met with steadfast refusal. Harry was quite willing to leave random public appearances in London's wizarding heart until they came home again. Although the shop would not be open to the public, it had very large windows.

Hermione paid no attention to Mrs Weasley's teary state because she was fretting about the morning mail. The Owls had not brought their Hogwarts letters and Hermione would have to wait until she returned home to receive it. As Harry watched the other four Floo into number ninety-three Diagon Alley, Mrs Weasley piled his plate higher with more breakfast than he could possibly eat.

"Thanks, Mum," he said absently as he read the front page of the paper that Arthur was holding up and stabbed a piece of sausage with his fork. The sausage never made it to Harry's mouth however, because he found himself engulfed in one of Mrs Weasley's rib-cracking hugs. His breathing became laboured and his hand was jutting out at an uncomfortable angle and he struggled to hold his fork so that it would not poke him in the eye.

"Molly, let the boy go so he can breathe," said Arthur, not removing his eyes from the paper. Mrs Weasley let him go and he stuffed the sausage piece into his mouth hurriedly, wondering what he'd done to warrant the affectionate assault as Mrs Weasley busied herself washing the dishes. Arthur lowered the paper fractionally and peered over the top at Harry.

"She likes it when you say that," he supplied quietly. Harry merely looked at him in confusion. He thought back and tried to work out what he'd said. "She wouldn't mind Molly, but … I don't think you realise that sometimes you call her Mum." Harry shook his head. He hadn't realised that at all. He watched as Mrs Weasley directed the dishes and plates with her wand. He suddenly realised he _wanted_ to call her Mum and knew with a certainty that his own mother would not mind, in the same way he had known his father would not have minded. Harry smiled at Arthur as he pushed his chair back.

"I'm going over to see Teddy now," Harry announced. He grabbed a piece of toast from his plate and went to the back door. He paused and crossed the kitchen in only a few steps to give Mrs Weasley – Molly a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks for breakfast, Mum," he said and watched her eyes light up before he banged out the door and bounded into the garden to Apparate to Andromeda's.

The next morning Molly's tears were even more pronounced as she fussed over them prior to their departure. Harry was irresistibly reminded of their departure for the World Cup in the summer before Fourth Year. Molly even asked George if he had anything that he shouldn't take into another country in his pockets. She did resist doing a summoning spell on him this time and when George left he did so after giving his mother a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Molly hugged Harry and then pulled her daughter into a fierce embrace.

"I can't believe you'll be all grown up next time I see you!" she wailed into Ginny's shoulder. "You'll be of age and my baby will be gone!" Ginny patted her mother awkwardly on the shoulder, refraining from saying that she was already all grown up, wasn't a baby and hadn't been for some time, but somehow Harry knew that's what she was thinking.

"Don't worry, I'll always be your baby, mum," she said instead as her mother released her.

"That's right," sniffed Molly. "So don't you dare go off and get married or anything silly just because you can!" Ginny blushed tomato red as her mother glared at her. Harry put his arm around Ginny's shoulders and leaned in to press a kiss to Molly's cheek.

"I wouldn't dare, Mum," said Harry. He grinned at Molly cheekily. "I wouldn't dare."

***************************

"Why on earth is this place a mess?" exclaimed Ron as they arrived by Portkey at the designated point, concealed by Muggle repelling charms, in Sydney International Airport. Looking through the large windows that surrounded them Harry saw that there was a lot of building machinery and more than one massive scaffold. Cranes wobbled precariously overhead and half finished buildings rose into the sky, planes appeared to dodge them as they circled the airport.

"You'd think, if they call this place the showcase of Australia, the Muggles'd tidy it up a bit!"

"They're building it Ronald," Hermione sighed exasperatedly.

"Well, how is that safe for the Muggles? It's not as if planes aren't dangerous enough without knowing how they stay up and all but they have to try and drop them out of the sky into this mess?"

"Planes don't drop out of the sky, Ron," said Hermione, less than patiently. "Planes land." Hurriedly showing their paperwork to the rather bored witch manning the International Portkey desk Hermione led Ron over to a window and began pointing out the runways and attempted to explain that the planes used these to gather and reduce speed when leaving or returning to earth. George, Harry and Ginny showed their own paperwork to the witch and joined them.

"Why does it look like this then?" George asked curiously. "It is a bit messy. Bit like my bedroom after an experiment gone wrong, things sticking up at angles all over the place!" Hermione turned from the window where Ron was watching, fascinated as planes landed.

"They're making it bigger, for the Olympics."

"The Olly-whats?"

"But Hermione they're two years away!" said Ginny incredulously. "They've started a bit early don't you think?"

"Takes a long time to build things the Muggle way," said Harry matter-of-factly as he joined Ron at the window of the nearest gate.

"I can't believe they aren't falling out of the sky!" Ron marveled.

"So am I, actually," said Hermione peering out into the gloom. "That's one nasty storm out there." The five of them watched as tiny people hurried about on the runway below, buffeted by the wind, pulling bags and suitcases from the belly of the plane below. Rain lashed the windows and the grey world outside looked incredibly uninviting.

"Oooh this is a lovely place for a honeymoon," muttered Bill sarcastically as he and Fleur approached from behind them.

"What took you two so long?" Ron demanded. "We've been here for ages!"

"Never you mind!"

"Thees ees our 'oneymoon Ronald," said Fleur. "I zink you can make up your own mind." She grinned mischievously at them and George groaned.

"We do _not_ need to hear _that_!"

"Right," said Bill, "I think we have more pressing matters to attend to at the moment. For one thing, how do we get out of this maze? And then where do we go, Hermione?"

"Well, the best way would be the train station, straight to the city, only they are a bit behind and haven't finished the train station yet, so we will have to find the bus and catch that," she mused.

"Is it anything like the Knight Bus?" shuddered Ron. Hermione shook her head exasperatedly.

"They're Muggles Ron, they drive a little more sedately than Ernie!" However the bus proved difficult to board with such a large group as the weather had caused more than one delay and had resulted in the baggage handlers walking off the job due to hazardous conditions. The Airport was packed with weary travelers wondering when they would be able to reclaim their luggage and eventually crowding onto the shuttle buses, without their luggage, in order to get home that night. There was no room for a party of seven with copious amounts of luggage.

The group watched as a glum looking Muggle climbed into the last seat on the third bus they'd tried to board. She appeared to be talking to herself until Hermione pointed out that she had a mobile telephone attached to the opposite side of her head with the hand she was not waving wildly in the air.

They'd have been dead useful over the past year," Ron commented. "It's a pity they wouldn't work around magic." Harry thought Ron might have a point but he was too wet and miserable to care. He huddled into his coat miserably.

Abandoning the Shuttle bus idea Bill finally flagged down two taxis with a few Muggle repelling charms. The fight for taxis was worse than the fight to get onto the Shuttle Buses but they were a lot easier to cast the charms on. The taxi drivers proved to be quite equal to Ernie's driving skill and Ron hopped out at their destination looking decidedly green. They huddled next to a nearby building, which had an overhanging porch above the doorway, in order to remain dry, while Bill paid the taxi drivers.

"Where are we?" asked George looking up at the tall buildings, many of which were covered in flashing lights or other brightly glowing signs. Night had fallen and the grey skies and smoky looking landscape had given way to sparkling lights on an inky backdrop, the lights of the city reflecting in the rain that was still splashing down and coating the buildings and roads.

"George Street," Hermione said absently while consulting a notebook she had pulled from her handbag.

"I realise that we are on a street Hermione. I was wondering more precisely which one and what are we doing here?" George rolled his eyes. Hermione looked up exasperatedly.

"We are standing on George Street," she said. "George, the name of the street is George Street. It's Sydney's main thoroughfare and quite possibly the first street in Sydney, being one of the first two main tracks that led through the settlement. It used to be called High Street as in the best British tradition, but it was obviously formally named at a later date. It runs from near the Harbour Bridge through the city to the south end of Sydney and connects to feeder roads out into the Western suburbs-"

"She's read a book about Sydney," muttered Ron. Hermione continued as though he had not spoken

"- and it happens to run between Sydney's main wizarding locations at Chinatown and The Rocks."

"So where are we off to then, Hermione?" asked Bill as he joined them, shaking the rain from his hair.

"Well, according to the notes I wrote down there should be a wizarding pub here somewhere. It's called The Dripping Bucket, if any of you can see it through this rain that would be fantastic," Hermione said.

"The Dripping Bucket?" scoffed Ron incredulously. "Who calls a pub that?"

"British wizards trying to recreate home on foreign soil I expect, Ronald," she responded tartly. "It's not like I named the pub, is it? I am just trying to get us out of this rain and somewhere to stay."

"I found it," interrupted Ginny. Harry looked to where she was pointing across the street. A small door was wedged in between two office buildings. As his eyes lingered on the door he could make out the sign proclaiming it as The Dripping Bucket swinging in the waning wind.

"Let's go then," Harry said, collecting his bag and braving the rain still pelting down from the heavens. The group dashed across the busy street and spilled through the door to The Dripping Bucket, pushing their way inside to escape the freezing droplets.

"Hey, shut the bloody door behin' ya, Blue!" the voice of the barman rang out across the crowded pub, in a lazy drawl. George hastily wedged the door shut behind him. "I know this pub is called The Drippin' Bucket, but no need to flood the place! I'm flat out trying to run this place without you makin' more work for me!"

"We're looking for somewhere to stay, can you recommend somewhere?" Hermione asked him after she made her way to the bar. "Do you have any rooms?"

"Nah, we don't got any rooms anymore. No one stays in pubs anymore. Got a nightclub upstairs, but," the barman replied. He was blonde with a thick neck and an even tan. "You wanna go through into Origin Alley there's a hotel in there and they'll be able to put you up, bound to have room this time of year."

"Yes, if you could just tell us how to get through to Origin Alley?" Hermione asked.

"Youse're definitely not from around 'ere are youse? Everyone knows how to get into Origin Alley!" the man looked incredulous. "Well you just go through the back door there, there's a paintin' in front of you and you gotta tap the yellow dots. Just tap 'em with ya wand starting at the top and work your way down. It'll roll up and let ya through. Hotel's about four doors down on ya right."

Hermione thanked the man as they traipsed out the back door in search of the painting.

"They aren't very original this lot, are they?' said Ron. "If it wasn't for the freezing rain in August and that weird voice we may as well be back home going through The Leaky Cauldron!"

"A lot of things are going to look British, Ronald," said Hermione. "It was settled by the British, remember?"

"Yeah, well I expected it to be a lot less like home, you know?"

"I think you've got your wish Ron," said Ginny as they came face to face with a massive canvas which was covered in swirls and dots.

"Blimey!" Ron muttered. The painting was nothing like anything back home at all. Stretching at least six feet tall and four feet wide, the canvas was covered in tiny dots arranged to form the picture of a giant snake. Most of the dots were white, black or a murky colour that was a cross between red and brown but weaving down the centre was a trail of yellow dots. Bill got out his wand and tapped each of the yellow dots in turn and the snake's head, which was at the bottom of the painting, twisted around to look at them before slithering a few centimeters towards the edge of the canvas and suddenly the painting was rolling itself up, exposing the trunk of a massive tree, set into the wall behind the pub.

The tree was at about four feet wide; grey and satiny smooth and Hermione concluded that it was no longer alive at all and it had obviously been sufficiently massive with a root system so deep that they had simply built the wall, years and years ago, on either side of it, without removing it. The trunk of the tree had a rather large gap in it, tall enough and wide enough for a person to enter. As they went through the gap in the trunk one by one they realised they were standing inside the tree trunk. Another gap in the opposite side of the trunk led the way to a sparkling hive of night time activity beyond.

Entranced, Harry stepped out from the shelter of the old, hollow tree trunk, the others followed him. Hermione pointed out the hotel a short way down the Alley and they headed towards it. There were still a number of wizards and witches out on the streets and it looked as though a thriving restaurant district was next to the hotel, there were people heading down a tiny alleyway filled to overflowing with a bustling crowd. The sides were lined with food vendors and the enticing smells drifted out and swirled around them.

"Cor, the food smells all right, doesn't it?" said Ron, entirely predictably. Hermione shook her head at him while Harry bit the inside of his cheek to stop the laughter bubbling up from inside.

"We need to check in first, Ronald," Hermione said imperiously. "Must you always think about food?"

"Yes," said Ron immediately as Hermione dragged him away from the entrance to the enticing alley and into the foyer of the hotel. The splendor of the hotel was entirely ruined by the sideshow being carried on behind the check-in desk. There were two men there, dressed in immaculate matching robes that carried the hotel's insignia, having a very loud argument in strident tones.

"I'm tellin' ya mate, all I said to 'im woz 'Aveagoodweegend', how can anyone possibly find that offensive?"

"The man was going to a funeral, you drongo!"

"Dead set?" asked the first man faintly. "No wonder he spit the dummy at me."

"Yeah well, you're lucky he didn't draw his wand on ya! Ya great galah!" The first man had apparently noticed them and imperceptibly straightened his collar and seemed to put on a new, professional face as he greeted them.

"Good evening," he intoned in a low, measured voice. "How can we be of assistance this evening?" Hermione looked at Bill who stepped up and spoke to the man.

"We're after three adjoining rooms if you have them," he said.

"Of course, sir, I will check." Getting out the most enormous ledger Harry had ever seen the desk clerk began to flick through the pages noisily. Harry started peering at his surroundings, noticing the strange plants in pots by the windows, the gold fixtures and the myriad collection of lamps and candles that adorned the walls. There were a few portraits but the wall decorations largely consisted of landscapes where the leaves on the trees moved slowly in an invisible breeze and birds intermittently flew noisily across the canvas skies. Hs attention was diverted by a group of witches entering the door who were giggling in the most unbearable fashion. He caught some of their conversation as they drifted past him to the staircase in the corner of the foyer.

"Oh don't be silly, Ashley," giggled a tall brunette. "I know you're a bit excited to visit the Big Smoke but you won't be seeing celebrities on every bleeding street corner!"

"I'm telling you, I saw him, it was definitely him!" shrilled a short blonde with curls. "They said he was coming so of course he'd be here. Journos never get it wrong!" Harry wondered idly who Ashley thought she had seen as Bill accepted several room keys from the clerk behind the desk.

"Do enjoy your stay at The Orridge Inn," droned the clerk with a forced smile.

"Yeah it's real original around here," Ron said, snorting. Hermione hushed him hurriedly.

"Thank you," she said pleasantly to the desk clerk. "Can you give me some information about the methods of transport in Australia? We'd like to go to -" she consulted her notes, "country Victoria."

"You'll be wanting the bus then?" the clerk asked. Ron shook his head vehemently and Hermione elbowed him firmly.

"A bus sounds fine, if that is the normal way to get places," she sounded dubious. "It does seem an awful long way on the map though." The clerk stared at her.

"You a witch or what?" The clerk shook his head. "I'll gather together some brochures that they might find useful and send them up.

Bill led the way up to their adjoining rooms and Harry noted with some trepidation that they seemed to be situated near the group of witches he'd spotted earlier. They were giggling loudly, the door left wide open, in the room opposite the one Bill handed him a key to.

"Can we go and get something to eat?" asked Ron as Hermione tried her key in the door on the other side.

"Honestly Ron, we just had breakfast!"

"Yeah but now it's dinner time … and well, I missed lunch!" Hermione rolled her eyes at him and pushed the door open, disappearing inside. George and Harry grinned at Ginny behind Ron's back and pushed Ron into their room, following him inside. As he began to close the door behind them Harry thought he heard one of the giggly witches squeal unbearably loudly. Harry hurriedly pushed the door shut to block out the horrible noise and looked around at the room.

The splendor in the foyer of the hotel did absolutely nothing mask the fact the rooms were, quite simply, not splendid. It didn't bother Harry however, drab brown walls and uninspiring pictures were not something that bothered him and they weren't here to spend all their time in a hotel room anyway. Ron began to investigate the tiny ensuite, poking through the drawers and cupboards. There was a door in the wall to his left and Harry opened it to find Hermione and Ginny whispering in the middle of the next room. George peered over his shoulder.

"Don't tell Mum that Bill and Fleur weren't in the middle room," he said and winked.

"Oh, yes George, because there is so much danger of anything untoward going on with you and Ron here!" George just laughed.

"It's not you and Ginny I'm worried about it's Ron and Hermione!"

"Really?" Harry raised his eyebrow at George who nodded vigorously.

"You've heard the way he talks about her," he said emphatically.

"Maybe to you," mused Harry. "He's never said anything much to me."

"Well he probably thinks you'd hex him if he voiced, to you, half of what he'd like to do to her!" chortled George, "cause he would do the same to you!"

"Just … don't … George," he shuddered. "I probably know what he's thinking of doing and I don't want to hear it!" Hermione had marched forcefully over to the door and was standing there, hands on hips glaring at them both. Harry hurriedly pushed the door closed and called out to her through the door.

"We'll meet you downstairs!" He strode back across the room and grabbed at Ron's arm, pulling him out of the door and down the hallway to the stairs.

"I think those girls in the room opposite ours are barking, Harry," said Ron as he followed Harry down the stairs. "I think they've been to the zoo or something." He didn't say anything else and Harry just muttered absently that he'd once been to a zoo.

"No, I really think they are barking mad," insisted Ron. "Maybe we should see if we can move to a different room away from them."

"Why, Ron? They seemed a bit giggly, but visiting zoos is hardly a crime!"

"Because one of them was saying she was in love with an otter!" Ron grimaced. "I think she said she wanted to _marry _one!" Harry made an indistinct noise in his throat, choking down a laugh as they reached the foyer.

"I'd say it's more likely they were giggling about some _bloke_ they want to marry, Ron," George said. "Girls giggle like mad about getting married." Harry nodded emphatically.

"Yeah, they were giggling when they got here, about someone famous," he offered.

"Oh, well, maybe that's who they were talking about then," said Ron thoughtfully. "Maybe his name's Otter?" Harry went pale.

"Say that again," he demanded. Ron looked at him strangely and frowned. Hermione and Ginny were approaching from the staircase and as Harry watched them he thought he could hear the group of giggling witches

"What? Someone famous named Otter?" The three of them looked at each other in horror.

"No," breathed Harry. As he looked again at the staircase he saw Ashley poke her head out from around the corner at the top of the staircase. She squealed and pulled back again.

"How is this possible?" he hissed at Ron and George as Hermione and Ginny caught up to them.

"Bill and Fleur are staying in," announced Ginny with a grimace. Harry laughed at the look on her face, forgetting about the witches in the room opposite theirs. He reached out and pulled her into a hug before whispering in her ear.

"I bet you wouldn't be making that face if we were the ones staying in?"

"Maybe my mother should have warned me about _you_ Harry Potter," murmured Ginny as Harry's lips began playing with her ear. They both ignored the argument that Ron and Hermione had started over where to eat and pretended not to see George deliberately turn his back on their display as Ginny began threading her fingers through Harry's hair, bringing his head closer to her own. Harry moved his attention to her lips and lost himself in her feather light touch as she danced her fingers through his hair. He thought he heard George murmur that maybe he should be less worried about the quarrelling duo and more about the amorous twosome but they didn't actually break apart until he felt a whack on the back of his head.

Harry turned, scowling, to find George wielding a newspaper, _The Daily Oracle_. Harry just stared at George as if he had lost his mind because as far as Harry was concerned – he had. George simply unfurled the paper. Harry took one look at it and blanched.

_POTTER NUPTIALS PLANNED_

_Reports have it, on good authority, that Harry Potter, wizarding Britain's most eligible bachelor, is no longer eligible!_

_It seems that he and his long time girlfriend, a Miss Hermione Granger, have planned to marry right here. His arrival is anticipated sometime today. Actual details of the event have been kept securely under wraps, even from this intrepid reporter._

_Speculation is rife that the hasty nuptials have been planned due to the ill timed arrival of a bundle of joy during the war that tore apart wizarding Britain over the last two years. Potter has been seen several times in the company of a small dark haired baby that can only have been his child. It seems he is finally about to do right by the poor tyke's mother._

The article was accompanied by the picture of him and Hermione in the Leaky Cauldron and a smaller, fuzzy inset picture of him and Teddy that had obviously been taken one day at Andromeda's. Harry scowled fiercely.

"Blimey, Harry," said Ron, "I thought dad and Kingsley cleared that mess up?"

"Obviously not," ground out Hermione. "This report is worse than the last one!"

"And what do they care all the way over here anyway?" grumbled Harry as he screwed the paper up and lobbed it at a nearby bin.

"Tabloid news, it's got global appeal," muttered Ginny. Harry gave her a warm smile and slung and arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. He looked up at Ron and Hermione.

"Let's go have some fun," he grinned at Hermione. "What are they going to do when they see both of us at the same time with someone else? The stories can't get any worse!" Hermione laughed and slipped an arm around Ron's waist. George eyed them distastefully.

"I need to find myself a chick," he muttered as he trailed after them.

"If you keep using that term I'll hex you, George," complained Hermione, twirling her wand. "The correct term in Australia is sheila." The five of them spilled out laughing into the street and headed to the alleyway next to the hotel.

A large sign bolted to the wall at the entrance of the alleyway indicated that it was called Tucker Run. The vendors that lined the streets sported large colourful signs and placards that proclaimed them as 'the best place to get seafood' or 'award winning'. Harry strolled down the narrow alley way, his hand in Ginny's marveling at the sights and sounds that enveloped them. Ron pulled Hermione ruthlessly from vendor to vendor, from one restaurant to the next. The tiny street held a vast array of delicacies from all over the world. There were meats spinning on spits, sizzling stir fries and seafood buffets. Delicate pastries and exotic ice creams spilled from dessert lounges and drink vendors pedaled juices, soft drinks and aromatic coffees.

Eventually they settled on a table in the back corner of a restaurant that boasted 'Modern Australian Cuisine', figuring that if they were here they might as well experience the local fare. The menu was a colourful selection of meats, flavoured with bush herbs and spices, kangaroo steaks and Barramundi, which Hermione assured a dubious Ron was fish.

"They eat kangaroos here?" asked George as if he couldn't quite believe it.

"Sure do!" came a lively voice from Harry's elbow. "Only place in the world they eat their own national emblem, so they say. Not that I've ever been able to work out who 'they' are in any case.

"So where are you lot from then? Don't get too many travellers in August. Mind you I've noticed it's been a bit busier lately. Perhaps it's that British war being over. Never seen so many Poms around for years. It's like they're all tryin' to flee the country. You woulda thought they woulda tried to flee before now!" Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron as the blonde waiter gave them his version of what he called 'The Pommy Situation'.

"Well-" began Hermione but the waiter ignored her and simply kept talking.

"The Muggles like to get involved globally. Used to be a time when they'd send soldiers to fight for British Muggles." The waiter never seemed to take a breath. "Can't say as wizards ever do that though. Certainly wasn't no campaign or anything over 'ere for Aurors to go over or nothing. Some reckon the British Ministry got taken over by that evil bloke so they weren't about to ask for anyone else to fight them were they? But who knows what's real that comes from those British news sources." The way he said 'British news sources' suggested he considered them a bigger evil than Voldemort. It seemed he hadn't finished.

"Of course bit more allied to America these days," the waiter said 'America' as if it was worse than British news sources. "The people are alright o'course but they've got some weird Muggles running that joint, I'm telling you. Think the US Ministry is better run though. Anyway, where are you lot from?" Hermione glanced at Harry and Ron before speaking up.

"Britain, actually," she said. Hermione was about to continue, when the waiter took another deep breath and went on.

"Oh so you've been there then? Fair dinkum? Course you have, you live there! Don't 'spose you were involved in that war at all? Nah, kids like yourselves woulda been a bit young to get involved – although they reckon the whole thing came to a head at a school or summat?" he looked at them expectantly but did not give them a chance to confirm or deny what he obviously thought were rumours as he plunged on. "Of course that Potter bloke's not very old, schoolboy they reckon, so I suppose it could be true. 'Snot ridgey didge if you ask me, can't trust that British press. I mean I ask you, as if he'd come 'ere to get married. Seen that story 'ave youse? If he's still at school he's not likely to be getting married at all! What a load of rubbish. Course you look a bit like the sheila they reckon he's marrying, could get you in a bit of strife." He waved a finger in Hermione's general direction as he finished. Hermione smiled and Harry looked at her with a raised eyebrow while Ginny tried valiantly to stifle a giggle.

"Anyway I've gas bagged enough at you lot. I'm supposed to be telling you I'm ya waiter for this evening and my name's Johnno," he paused, which had been a rare occurrence during his monologue, before he sighed. "It's not really Johnno, it's just Jonathon but the owner thinks the punters want some sort of Aussie flavor and he thinks that is it. I mean really if he wants Aussie flavor he should just stick to smothering the kangaroo steaks in bush spices and serving Liliypily Icecream."

"And that's what Australians eat?" asked Ginny dubiously.

"Nah," Jonathon replied, "most of 'em eat the same as the rest of the world. The Muggles eat a lot of stir fries and pasta but wizarding folk seem to have got stuck in some sort of British time warp and it's all dumplings and mutton. Muggleborns like me are changing that of course but I don't think we'll ever give up the lamb roast. Stuff like emu is mostly in restaurants. You can get kangaroo in a supermarket but few people actually buy and cook it. Anyway, what'll youse have?" They ordered some of the more exotic things on the menu at Jonathon's suggestion. He said that even though it wasn't your normal fare it was actually quite good, for a change of pace.

The restaurant was filling up slowly but no one paid any mind to the small group in the back corner. About halfway through their entrée Bill's Patronus turned up and asked them where they were. Hermione sent back a message and Jonathon expanded their table and conjured up two more chairs. Bill and Fleur arrived moments later while Jonathon was fetching some extra menus in preparation for their arrival.

Harry shuffled his chair around to fit the two newcomers at the table and when Jonathon came back he greeted Bill and Fleur, handing them the menus before asking the rest of them if they wanted anything else at the moment. It was the first time he'd seen more than Harry's profile and Jonathon stopped dead in the middle of a long winded sentence that extolled the virtues of Australian Muggle Beer over the imported British mead. He leaned in close to the table, eyeing Harry with his blue eyes and dropped his voice to a whisper.

"Here, _you_ look like that Potter bloke," he swung towards Hermione and his jaw dropped. His eyes narrowed. "Well you coulda let a bloke know before letting me carry on like that before!" Jonathon looked behind him swiftly and he took his wand out of his pocket and cast a series of complicated charms around their table.

"What was that for?" asked Bill curiously.

"Privacy charms," Jonathon replied. He waved vaguely to a table near the front of the restaurant. "There's a bunch of witches over there and they are giggling about Potter something fierce. You're him, aren't you?" Harry nodded mutely. Harry and Ginny craned their necks to see the table in question. It was Ashley and her friends from the hotel.

"Well you don't need to be bothered by the likes of them," said Jonathon authoritatively. "They've been going on about following you around. I reckon maybe they're stalking you. They can't see you now though. Somehow, they got a strange compunction to go looking elsewhere. When you've finished I'll take you through the back." He paused thoughtfully. "It might cost you an autograph though – Naomi out the back's a bit of a fan, don't know if I can get youse past her."

"You'll have to start signing them eventually," mumbled Ron, his mouth full of food. "Are you going to eat that Hermione?" Jonathon watched shrewdly as Hermione passed him her plate, shaking her head, a smile on her lips and Ron responded by running his hand up her arm and leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"Stop that!" said George. "Honestly, you two are sickening. We are at the dinner table!"

"So, er … ya definitely not marrying her then, hey?" said Jonathon to Harry. He assumed a supremely smug look. "Knew it." Harry shook his head, a smile playing on his lips and Jonathon took Bill and Fleur's orders and scurried off to attend to his duties.

Jonathon would come back at irregular intervals during the evening to recommend a dish or particular drink. Occasionally he'd give them a report on the giggling witches.

"There's this waitress," he paused and pointed her out during one of his visits, "Susan, and they have managed to convince her that they know you! She's running around like a chook with it's head cut off catering to their every whim. I don't know what she thinks she's going to get out of it. I'm not at all sure she isn't a sandwich short of a picnic if she believes that giggly lot. Honestly, sheilas!" Jonathon glanced hastily at Hermione who growled at him. "You should definitely try the wattleseed dip with fresh fruit." He finished hastily before scuttling back to the kitchen.

True to his word Jonathon escorted them through the kitchen and out the back door of the restaurant. Harry stopped to sign a napkin for an awestruck Naomi, who happened to be the kitchen hand and as they spilled out the back door into a dingy alleyway he thought he could hear Susan's shrill voice exclaiming over the napkin and cursing the giggly witches at the table near the window.

"Well, youse all have a good time while ya here," said Jonathon as Bill conjured several umbrellas to shelter them from the rain that had begun to fall once again. "It was nice meeting youse."

"I thought it'd be a bit more, you know, dry," said Ron grumpily, "land of sunshine and that. If I wanted rain I can get that back home." He moodily splashed the toe of one of his shoes in a puddle. Jonathon looked at him thoughtfully.

"If you want dry you should go outback or up country," he said. "It's dry as a bone there. This rain, here, not much good in the long run. If it don't fall where it can get into the river system and on the farming lands it's just not much good at all. We'll take as much rain as we can get right now. Haven't had a lot for two years now."

"Oh we are going to the country," piped up Hermione excitedly. "When I can figure out how to get there. The hotel clerk really wasn't all that helpful with transport arrangements."

"Oh you'll want Ernie's bus," said Jonathon as if it was accepted fact. Harry swallowed heavily.

"You have a bus driven by Ernie?" he asked, monotone. Ron paled. Jonathon nodded eagerly.

"Yeah, Ernie's me best mate! I help him on the bus sometimes but me job keeps me pretty busy so usually it's Bert," Jonathon was once again warming to his topic. As they stood there in the street, the water splashing on their legs and dripping into the top of their shoes Jonathan launched into another monologue. "Course it's not really Ernie's bus. I mean he don't own it or nothing, he just drives it. Loves that job he does, been doing it since we left school. Ernie took a holiday in New Zealand once and rode the bus there. He'd never ridden it back here seeing as the train lines run to school. Don't s'pose you lot catch a train to school do you?

"Anyway, prefers brooms normally, does Ernie, Bert too for that matter but they took this trip in New Zealand on their bus, crazy bloke what drives that one, and when he got home and finished his EMUS all he wanted to do was drive the silly bus!"

"Emus?" asked Hermione faintly. Jonathon nodded firmly.

"Ernie Bingle, sport mad sod! I mean he could be so much more but instead of sitting normal exams he sits for the Exceptional Magical Umpire Scores and then starts driving the bleeding Roobus!"

"Roobus?" questioned Ron as he quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah," said Jonathon enthusiastically, "we named it, me and Bert and Ernie! It used to be called the Blackhound, but what sort of a stupid name is that for a bus? So we renamed it the Roobus. Much more sensible."

"Er, quite," said Bill, clearly not understanding why it was in fact much more sensible. Perhaps Jonathon sensed this because he sighed exasperatedly.

"Stands to reason dunnit?" he looked from one to the other and they stared back at him blankly. "Crikey poms are daft. You got a bus that hops from one place to another, what else would you call it?"

"Oh, sure," said Ron a little weakly as he raised an eyebrow at Harry who shrugged. As far as Harry was concerned Jonathon was alright – if a little enthusiastic. Jonathon had treated Harry courteously and without the awe that attended some of the other people he'd met recently. His prompt shielding of Harry from the giggly witches had earned Jonathon, although he did not know it, a new friend.

It was getting late when Harry found himself walking back to the hotel on a nearly deserted street, sharing an umbrella with Ginny and listening to Hermione as she explained what she had organised with Jonathon regarding the Roobus. He really did try to listen carefully to Hermione's long winded explanation about Apparating buses and how it would only take moments to go the six hundred kilometres from Sydney to Yackandandah, something that took the Muggles six hours. Of course Ernie might have a few stops along the way but wouldn't that be a wonderful way to see the country. The Roobus didn't operate on weekends but there was so much to see in Muggle Sydney and Jonathon was happy to take them on a tour in the morning. Of course they might not be able to sleep at the right time so who knew what sort of havoc that would create with their body clocks.

Harry wondered briefly if Hermione had always talked in this fashion or if it was something she'd picked up from Jonathon himself. He soon paid it no heed because he could feel Ginny's hand, which had been resting on his hip, slide down to rest in the back pocket of his jeans and it made him acutely aware of her hip bumping into his and her hair swishing back and forth over the arm that he had slung around her shoulder. She leaned her head against him as they walked and Harry found himself slowing down until they were behind the rest of them, Hermione gesturing all the while. Taking his chance Harry stopped and bent his head down to kiss Ginny. With the umbrella as a shield he didn't hesitate to deepen the kiss immediately. Ginny responded promptly and he was soon lost in her, standing in the middle of the footpath.

Dimly he heard Bill call out to them that they could find their own way back to the hotel but if they weren't back in an hour he'd hunt them down. Harry took that as permission to continue and they made full use of their allotted hour.


	17. Chapter 17

**There's a Land that I Heard Of**

The next morning dawned completely differently to the soggy night they had finally fallen asleep to. Eventually, at three in the morning, Harry had succumbed to sleep as he listened to the rain slow its patter on the window and was not too happy initially when woken only a few hours later by a rather enthusiastic Ginny Weasley who had hurtled through the door that joined their rooms and thrown herself on top of him.

When he realised it was Ginny and she'd managed to do this action without waking either of her snoring brothers Harry was a little more receptive to the idea. He did not hesitate to pull his arms out from under the covers and wrap them around his lovely girlfriend. She bent down to kiss him soundly on the lips and Harry fought the urge he had to flip her over and pin her to the bed so he lay there, trailing his hands up and down her back leisurely as her lips toyed with his. He was startled when he heard Ron grunt and pulled away from her suddenly.

"Don't wake George up," he mumbled, stumbling out of bed. Ron headed for the door Ginny had just come through. Harry craned his neck to watch fuzzily as Ron approached Hermione's bed and pulling back the covers, climbed in. Harry slammed his eyes shut and shuddered. He could feel Ginny giggling.

"I guess he got over his fear of her seeing him in nothing but his pyjama pants," muttered Harry as Ginny shifted slightly so that she was lying next to Harry instead of straddling him.

"She spent some time on that little project," revealed Ginny. "Then she told me all about their evening by the pond!" Harry chuckled before sobering a little.

"Do you think they've gone … well … further?" he asked, as if fearful of the answer. Ginny shook her head.

"No, she would have told me. But he has been sneaking into her bed in the mornings as soon as I leave for the bathroom. I guess they like snuggling under the covers." At that moment George moved in his bed and Harry and Ginny froze.

"If you two can't be quiet, can you get out and let a bloke sleep!" he said exasperatedly before pulling the covers over his head. Ginny stifled a giggle and she and Harry lay quietly on Harry's bed. Ginny was fully dressed and on top of his covers but she was close enough for Harry to feel her sweet breath on his face and look into her brown eyes despite the fact his glasses were still on the bedside table. Ginny smiled as she raised a hand to trace his lips with her fingers.

"Good Morning," she whispered. "I haven't been able to sleep."

"Not at all?" Harry asked softly as he kissed her fingertips. Ginny shook her head frantically and looked at him brightly. Harry wondered if perhaps she was now running on adrenaline and in desperate need of sleep. He watched as her eyes slid shut while he stroked her face and hair, tracing her facial features with one index finger.

His stomach began doing strange flip flops as he watched her. When he moved away slightly Ginny's arm tightened around his torso and she threw her leg over his. He froze and laid there, his heart beating rapidly and his stomach flopping around uncomfortably as other parts of his anatomy woke up. Then George started to snore. Harry groaned. He was never going to get any sleep this way. As soon as Ginny's breathing evened out he carefully slid himself out from under her and wrapped a blanket around her. She snuggled into the indent his head had made in the pillow and sighed contentedly in her sleep. Grabbing his glasses, Harry slipped quietly into the adjoining room. Ron poked his head out from Hermione's covers as the door clicked shut softly.

"What do you want, Potter?" he asked grumpily.

"Oh, that's nice," huffed Harry as he threw himself on what was obviously Ginny's bed.

"Why aren't you in the other room snogging my sister?" demanded Ron.

"Well I never thought I'd hear you say that!" laughed Harry. Hermione appeared then, glaring at him.

"Why are you interrupting us, Harry?" she asked pointedly.

"I'm not interrupting you!" retorted Harry. "You can keep doing whatever you like! I am going back to sleep." He burrowed under Ginny's bedclothes, placing his glasses on her bedside table. Suddenly a pillow came flying at his head. He sat up abruptly, aiming a detached glare in Ron's general direction.

"What was that for?"

"Why are you in here, instead of in with Ginny?" asked Ron. Harry couldn't decide if Ron was indignant or astounded.

"She's asleep," Harry muttered.

"So?" asked Ron as he apparently did something that made Hermione giggle. "I love snuggling up to Hermione, even when she's asleep. It's nice." Harry could hear the smile in Ron's voice.

"That's great Ron, but do you really want me doing to Ginny what you are obviously doing to Hermione?"

"Er, well, probably not," stammered Ron. "But you're a lot nobler than me. You wouldn't." Harry grunted as he turned his back to them.

"Did you two have a fight, Harry?" asked Hermione suddenly. Harry sighed loudly and turned over.

"No," he said exasperatedly, "but I couldn't sleep next to her. I was a bit too … happy about that. I'm tired and there's no way either of us could have slept if I stayed in the same room as her. Besides, George started snoring. Now stop reminding me what I'm missing out on and let me go to sleep." He heard Ron and Hermione settle back into her bed and they obviously all drifted off to sleep because the next thing he knew he was being roughly awoken by someone shaking his shoulder. He rolled over to see Bill grinning at him widely.

"Ginny's a bit miffed with you," he chuckled. "We're going down to breakfast before we meet Jonathon. Come on, get up!" Harry, having dressed for the day in Muggle clothing, went downstairs to the dining room. He paused as he got to the table the Weasleys were sitting at with Hermione. Whenever they sat to eat Ginny always made sure there was a seat next to her for him if she got to the table before him. This morning however she was sitting between George and Fleur and carefully, meticulously, spreading honey on a crumpet without raising her head. George looked at Harry apologetically and shrugged. Still watching Ginny, Harry sank into the chair opposite her and reached for a glass of juice.

"Morning," he said quietly and everyone at the table murmured back except Ginny. Harry stared at her, his brows drawn together willing her to look at him. When she did not he surveyed the rest of the room.

The hotel's dining room was full of guests although thankfully Ashley and her giggly friends were not among them. Mostly the dining room consisted of elderly witches sipping tea and the odd wizard reading _The Weekend Oracle_ which had a headline that read _'MUGGLES MISPLACE FOOTBALL STADIUM: WIZARD'S BUCKS PARTY TO BLAME'_. Hermione was buried behind the same paper and he nudged her with his foot.

"Yes, Harry," she replied without looking up, "they think you had a bucks party." Harry groaned and helped himself to one of Ron's crumpets.

"Hey! Go and get your own breakfast! Buffet's that way!"

"But Ron," said Harry cheekily, "you know I like to share things with you!" Ginny snorted at this comment. Ron gave her a sharp look as Harry just pushed back his chair and stalked off to the buffet. He felt irritated that Ginny wouldn't look at him, or apparently talk to him and irritated that the Australian newspapers were acting like Rita Skeeter on Muggle speed. He gloomily collected a plate and surveyed the food on offer.

"You don't know what you did, do you?" Bill asked from his left elbow moments later. Harry shook his head as he moodily dumped some scrambled eggs on his plate. "You left her to follow Ron and Hermione." Harry viciously prodded some bacon with the end of some tongs and grunted.

"I only went into the next room so she could sleep," he muttered as he surveyed the twelve varieties of jam for his toast. He blushed violently as he spoke. "If I'd stayed there I definitely would have woken her up considering I was having a hard time keeping my hands to myself. And when George started snoring, well …"

"She'll get over it."

"Will she? She never acts like this. Normally if I'm being a prat, which I might add I am not," he said glaring at Bill, "she yells at me." Bill began heaping his own plate with bacon and eggs. He seemed to be considering something.

"George and Ron told me you had a talk with dad," he said eventually. Harry nodded with no idea what that had to do with it.

"Dad reckons I know Ginny really well, but I am completely at a loss here," Harry admitted. "You'd think she'd appreciate that I was being considerate." Bill nodded as he contemplated adding both crumpets and toast to his plate. Harry looked back at their table to find Ron in an earnest whispered argument with Ginny. He was gesturing with his hands, occasionally pointing a finger in her face. Bill, seeing the same thing, nudged Harry over to a nearby table away from the rest of the family.

"How long were you two going out before you broke up before?" Bill asked as he began eating. Harry toyed with his food.

"Only a couple of weeks, not long." Bill nodded, this obviously meant something to his train of thought but its relevance was lost on Harry.

"Well, I'm not sure which it is right now, but maybe you can put her odd behavior down to one of two things," said Bill. Harry looked up curiously. "Either she wanted you to … well it's either the time in her cycle she wants to … or she's moody because she's … well the opposite. Knowing how much she's like mum I'm afraid it's the former." Harry merely looked at Bill in confusion.

"I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, Bill," he said eventually. It was the first time Harry had seen the trademark Weasley blush on Bill. The man was normally so composed. Bill hurriedly stuffed his mouth with food. When he swallowed he muttered, "maybe Fleur should explain this." Harry could only agree. If Bill was going to be so vague perhaps she should.

"Or Hermione," Harry mumbled as he stabbed viciously at the bacon with his fork. Bill brightened.

"Of course! You've known Hermione for years, you've been best friends!" he said with what sounded suspiciously like relief. "No need to explain then, Hermione would have by now." Harry finished the food on his plate and contemplated Bill thoughtfully.

"Well, good," he said, although nothing really was. "I'll be back in my room." Harry pushed his seat back and hastily left the dining room, taking the stairs two at a time and managing to scuttle inside his room just before Ashley and her giggling entourage saw him as they exited their own room.

Harry was more confused than he had ever been in his life. He had no idea what was going on with Ginny, even less of an idea what Bill had been talking about and could not think of a single thing that Hermione had ever said to him that explained the mess he found himself in right now. He had done the right thing, acted appropriately and yet it seemed like he'd done the wrong thing. He hadn't been moping on his bed long before there was a soft knock at the door.

"Come in," he said morosely. Hermione pushed the door open and peered around it.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh yeah, I'm great Hermione," said Harry sarcastically. "The global wizarding public thinks we're getting married, Ginny isn't talking to me for reasons I don't even know, let alone understand and Bill is talking in some sort of code that I can't possibly decipher. I'm brilliant." Hermoine smiled sympathetically.

"Bill thinks it's so simple," Hermione shook her head. Harry swore she was shaking it pityingly. "He thinks it can be explained by hormones and natural cycles but it's more than that." Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Is anyone ever going to clue me in?" he asked exasperatedly. He recounted what Bill had said in the dining room, confessing he had no idea at all what Bill had been talking about. Hermione smiled as she began a long winded explanation of hormones and cycles and mood swings and why Bill thought that could account for Ginny's reaction. Harry stared at her.

"So, Bill thinks Ginny might be miffed because I didn't take advantage of her because right now she's … well …" he trailed off.

"Yes, fertile," Hermione said briskly. Harry grimaced. "Of course I don't think it's got anything to do with that at all."

"You don't?"

"No, I don't," she said smugly. "I think Bill was right with the first thing he said." Harry thought back.

"I followed you and Ron?" he asked, puzzled. Hermione nodded enthusiastically.

"She's wondering why you elected to go and sleep in the same room as me and Ron and not stay with her," she said. "Maybe she is wondering if you don't find her attractive. Why would you get out of a nice warm bed with her to go and be with us?" Harry stared at her.

"But you heard me! That's why I left the room! It was too warm and too nice in bed with her!" Harry groaned, flopping back on his bed as he clutched at his hair. "Dad said I know Ginny better than I think I do but honestly I have no idea what she's thinking, why she's thinking it and right now it's like I never even knew her at all."

"Have you talked to her about your physical relationship?" asked Hermione quietly. Harry shook his head.

"There's been so much going on and well, we've not really talked about it," Harry shrugged. "What is there to say?"

"You should decide how far you are going to go right now, where you are going to draw the line, what you are comfortable with." Hermione sank down on the bed next to Harry as he stared at the ceiling. "You have to talk about this, Harry. She doesn't know where she stands."

"Oh, so telling her I want to marry her someday isn't telling her where she stands?" Harry asked with a touch of sarcasm. Hermione gasped. "She's my whole world, Hermione. I don't want to mess it up." He turned to look at Hermione then, fighting an irrational urge to cry. He blinked furiously before looking back at the ceiling. He felt the bed move as Hermione rose and went to the door.

"I'm going to tell her to come and talk to you," she said. "And when you've finished we'll go out with Jonathon. Take your time, this is important." A few moments later Hermione opened the door and shoved Ginny unceremoniously through it before shutting it behind her. Harry remained where he was, staring at the ceiling with no idea what to say.

"Hermione said I had to come and talk to you," said Ginny stiffly. Harry looked up at her, she hadn't moved from the doorway, her arms were crossed and she had a scowl on her face.

"Don't look so thrilled," he muttered sarcastically. The silence that fell between them was thick and oppressive. Harry had no idea what to say or if she would even listen to him in her current mood so he elected to say nothing at all. Eventually he climbed off his bed and went to sit on the window seat, staring out at the bustling street below. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them as he watched a small boy dart in and out of the crowd lining the streets, a witch, who was probably his mother, following him closely. He saw street vendors with little carts wandering the middle of the street, stopping to sell their wares and watched an elderly couple as they walked hand in hand, peering into shop windows.

Origin Alley was uncommonly like Diagon Alley. He couldn't hear it but somehow Harry knew it was cacophony of sound, the hum of excited voices, the exchanging of money and the touting of wares. He saw a group of children with their noses pressed to the window of what was obviously a broomstick or Quidditch supply shop. The sign flapping above the door would flip up so he could see the broomstick on it occasionally. Opposite, he could see a wandmaker who'd been trading since 1790 and a store labeled 'Ledgers and Labels' that was probably a book or stationery store judging by the display in the window. He couldn't see any teenagers and surmised that they were in school. Maybe they were preparing for a day in the local village. Just like in Diagon Alley an immense white building rose up at one end of the street. He watched as people, miniaturised by distance, hurried up and down its steps. He idly wondered if the Australian branch of Gringotts was open on a Saturday and did not hear Ginny approach.

By the time his eyes had travelled to investigate a building that was obviously a post office, judging by the birds swooping in and out of it, he could sense her standing near him. He squinted to try and make out what sort of bird Australian wizards used for their mail and could see her out of the corner of his eye. He still had no idea what to say to her but looked up at her anyway and all his frustration melted away. For a single moment he saw the scared little girl he'd rescued in the Chamber and he felt, somehow, his twelve year old self reaching out to her. The feeling only lasted a moment and then he was himself again and his eighteen year old hands wiped the silent tears from her cheeks and pulled her into his lap. They sat silently on the window seat for several minutes, Ginny buried her face in his shirt and he stroked her hair trying to think of nothing, watching the people mill about on the street below.

Eventually Ginny raised her tear-stained face to his and Harry didn't fight the irresistible urge to drop a kiss on her nose. He summoned a box of tissues from his bedside table and handed it to her, watching as she wiped her tears away and blew her nose. He said nothing. He still had absolutely no idea what to say. He wanted to make this better, make it go away and get back the girl he knew and loved but he realised that this was a part of her too so he waited patiently for her to tell him what was on her mind.

"This is stupid," she eventually muttered. "I cry too much."

"We've been through a lot," Harry offered.

"I never used to cry this much."

"Maybe not, but you never used to be recovering from a war, did you?" Ginny looked at him then.

"But that was two months ago!" she exclaimed. "You're safe, you're here, we're on holidays. What's there to cry about? I don't even understand myself. How can I expect you to understand."

"Tell me about it," said Harry sincerely. "Maybe we can figure it out together." Ginny sat in contemplative silence for the longest time. Harry watched her. He watched the curve of her eyelashes as they blinked open and closed. He watched how her chest rose and fell as she breathed. He watched as her tongue darted out to wet her lips and how her teeth chewed on her lips as she thought.

"I felt like you chose them over me," she eventually whispered. "Why did you go and sleep in there? Why didn't you stay with me?"

"I didn't want to wake you up," replied Harry softly. "You were so tired and when you fell asleep you looked so peaceful. If I stayed there too long I would have woken you up. I couldn't sleep with my heart hammering in my chest … and … well … and then George started snoring." Harry grimaced as he finished.

"So you didn't go because you didn't want to be with me?"

"No," Harry whispered, "I went because I wanted to be with you too much. My body does strange things around you Ginny Weasley." Ginny blushed.

"When I woke up alone I thought you'd gone down to breakfast or were in the shower," mused Ginny. She looked at him. "I went back into my room and the three of you were curled up in there and I just felt so lonely. Ron was all snuggled up with Hermione and I didn't know why you didn't want to snuggle up with me. Didn't you want me?" Harry stroked her hair tenderly as he tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

"I love snuggling up with you. I love you. I do want you. But I'm still getting used to these feelings and me losing control on a lumpy mattress in some drab hotel room while your brother snores three feet away and you are sleep deprived is not something either of us need to experience," admitted Harry softly. "At the right time, at the right place I am going to make you my wife and then we can go to some really fabulous hotel and I'll lose control, I promise." He smiled and Ginny giggled.

"Do you really want to wait until you are married, for … you know?" asked Ginny shyly. Harry gazed at her.

"_We _are married," he said simply. "I want you, only you. I want it to be special. I don't think we're ready for sex yet. We've only really been together a couple of months and we're still figuring each other out or we wouldn't have had this silly fight. I don't want to rush into anything."

"Mum said to me, that once you start it's hard to stop," Ginny blushed. "I think she was telling me if I start … now it'll be really hard at school where there are not many … opportunities for that sort of activity. I didn't know you have that sort of reaction. I didn't know you feel that … strongly. I wasn't expecting … well, _that_ this morning though. I just wanted to be near you and I felt sort of … abandoned when you left."

"You can say sex, Ginny," Harry grinned at her. "Although if you can't look at me and say it then we definitely shouldn't be doing it." He laughed and Ginny slapped him on the arm. He pulled her to him and kissed her lightly before resting his cheek on her hair and gazing out of the window.

"Dad reckons if you aren't ready to get married you aren't ready to … well, you know," he murmured. Ginny laughed softly.

"If you can't say sex, Harry …" she trailed off, shifting so she too could see out of the window and watch the people in the street below.

"I love you," said Harry eventually. "If I do something that bothers you, tell me. Don't make me guess. Talk to me, okay?" He looked into her eyes, pleading with her to understand. He saw the girl he knew, the one who understood him so perfectly, looking back at him and he realised that he understood her just a little bit more now. She leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't handle it very well, did I?" Harry shrugged.

"We can't all be perfect," he said with a grin. "D'you reckon Jonathon is here yet? Let's go down and see!" He jumped up, picking Ginny up as he did so and she squealed. Harry twirled with her in his arms, her hair flying and she laughed delightfully. Impulsively he leant down to press a kiss to her lips and they stopped twirling. He felt Ginny's hands sneak into his hair and he pressed his own to her back, losing himself in her scent and the feel of her hands on his scalp.

A soft knock on the door broke them apart but Harry kept his arms around her waist as Bill poked his head around the door hesitantly. He smiled.

"You guys ready to go? Jonathon's here and if we don't give him and George something to occupy their time we could be in trouble," he grinned. "They've already set fire to four paintings, two rubbish bins and a pot plant."

"I'll just grab a coat," said Ginny and she kissed Harry on the cheek and skipped off to her own room to grab the article of clothing. Harry picked up his own discarded coat from the bag at the foot of his bed.

"All right, Harry?" asked Bill with a smile. Harry nodded. He was all right.

"Strewth, you two took ya time!" was Jonathon's greeting as Harry and Ginny followed Bill down the stairs, hand in hand. Harry did not miss the pleased look that crossed Ron's face as he caught sight of Harry and Ginny's linked hands. Smiling secretly to himself Harry leaned over and pressed a kiss to Ginny's hair, watching Ron out of the corner of his eye as he did so. Ron smiled softly, unaware that Harry was watching him. Molly was right, Ron did have a look about him when he watched Harry with Ginny. Pulling Ginny into his arms Harry stood in the hotel foyer barely listening to Jonathon outline where they were going. It didn't matter where he was going, it only mattered who he was with.

************************

Jonathon dragged them to all the regular tourist spots that Muggles liked to frequent. Eager to capture their holiday, Hermione had them pose in front of more than one iconic Sydney landmark while she or Jonathon snapped picture after picture with her camera. Harry dutifully posed with the rest of them but in reality paid very little attention to where they were and what they were doing for most of the day. He spent his time watching Ginny, making every attempt not to let go of her at any time. After talking to her that morning he simply felt closer to her. He realised that he'd spent the last two months expecting Ginny to listen to him as he told her meagre details about what he'd been up to last year and was, in comparison, verbose about his feelings since fighting Voldemort. Rarely had he listened to her talk about how she was feeling. It wasn't that he didn't care or that he stopped her talking but only now did he fully appreciate that she wasn't volunteering information and unlike her, he had not asked.

No wonder she had acted so uncharacteristically this morning. Perhaps if he'd had an idea how she felt he would have acted differently and the whole mess could have been avoided. As he watched her pose for photographs with Hermione and Fleur, dressed as Chinese princesses in the Chinese Garden of Friendship, Harry wondered what Ginny felt. He knew she loved him, she told him constantly, showed him constantly, but what was she feeling? Was she as in love with him as he was with her? Had he asked her what she wanted or just told her what he planned to do? She hadn't been complaining but as the weak sunlight filtered into the pavilion they were in and lit up Ginny's face as she laughed, Harry realised that all the plans he'd dreamed were meaningless unless she made them with him. Harry told her she was beautiful when she twirled in front of him in an oriental green silk dress and decided some time alone was in order, resolving to spend some with her soon.

A short time later Harry watched, leaning against a pillar, as Bill and Ginny sat, talking, in a pavilion that looked out over the water. Fleur was reading out information from her guide book that only Hermione was listening to as Jonathon and George subtly bewitched twigs to race between plant life on the calm water. Ron approached him, sitting down on the low fence that surrounded the pavilion, his long legs sprawling into the middle of the pavillion.

"So, you sorted things out with Ginny this morning," he said. Harry nodded, feeling that was obvious given that they had probably been more nauseatingly affectionate than Ron and Hermione since leaving the hotel. Harry and Ron both seemed to have found that being on a holiday seemed to increase how carefree they felt and correspondingly the amount they showed affection. Harry had been amused to see Ron playing with Hermione's hair and kissing her neck as they walked along the street. In contrast to sixth year, or perhaps because of it, Ron was usually a lot more reserved with his affections in public. Harry found himself pulling Ginny close as they walked along, tucking his hand into her back pocket and more than once he'd caused a delay because he'd pulled Ginny into a kiss in the middle of a footpath.

"What did you say to her?" Harry asked Ron eventually.

"Told her off," Ron said succinctly. "Honestly, what a stupid thing to go mental over. You were being a gentleman. That book really came in handy, hey?" He nudged Harry with one elbow and winked. Harry didn't have the heart to tell him he'd barely made a dent in reading the book Ron had given him for his birthday last year. Harry also did not tell his best mate that he had imagined it said quite different things than merely how to be a gentleman – given Ron's own behavior with Hermione. Instead he sighed.

"If only a book could tell me everything."

"Like what?" demanded Ron. "She's totally yours. Always has been. You might have the odd fight but what do you need a book to tell you? You're more noble and gallant than Galahad. She's going nowhere mate." Harry looked at him seriously then.

"Is that enough?"

"What?"

"Is that enough?" insisted Harry. "It's a bit … complacent to assume anything isn't it? You don't just 'have' someone. Don't you have to win their heart or something." He shrugged. Ron just looked at him blankly.

"But you won her heart years ago!"

"She had a crush on me, Ron!" Harry's voice rose and he saw Ginny turn to look at him. He smiled weakly and she beamed back. Clearly she hadn't heard what he said. He lowered his voice and whispered furiously. "When did I win her heart, really? Have I?" Ron smiled at him.

"You've won her heart. She's in love with you. She'd marry you tomorrow if you asked her," said Ron. "Likely follow you to the ends of the earth as well. Come to think of it, she just did." Ron chuckled as he looked up into the clear blue sky, the white clouds scudding across it like tiny missiles.

"Would she?" asked Harry skeptically. "Marry me, I mean." Ron sobered.

"D'you want to get married?"

"Not right now," Harry said softly, turning to gaze into the water. "I feel like I've got a million things to catch up on. We're both at school anyway!" Harry watched the lily pads that were floating on the water in front of the pavilion.

The garden was an oasis in the middle of the bustling Muggle city. There was a busy road just outside one wall and yet, when they'd walked close to that wall Harry had heard the cars only faintly. It was like a world apart where only serenity existed. The lily pads below did not have many flowers. Harry thought that was odd because Fleur had read out that they were in the Water Pavilion of Lotus Fragrance, so where were the lotus flowers? He surmised that the flowers simply weren't in season or they'd not appeared yet. He listened absently as Fleur continued her discourse from the guidebook, not really taking in what she was saying but letting her soft peaceful voice wash over him as it mingled with the ebb and flow of the garden which seemed to have a palpable peace. Despite his inner turmoil he reveled in the tranquility of the garden it was soothing and it seemed to smooth over his ruffled feelings.

"… so Harry should definitely get one of those!"

"Don't be daft! He should get a Horntail!"

"We were gunna get one once, not a Horntail, maybe a Hippogriff, but we didn't get around to it before …" George trailed off as Harry turned around to see what the conversation was all about. Ginny was peering at the guidebook in Fleur's hands and Ron was watching as George turned away. Harry could see George blink rapidly. Thinking to give George some privacy to compose himself Harry went over to Ginny and slipped his arms around her waist. Resting his chin on her shoulder he asked,

"What should I definitely get?"

"A lotus flower tattoo!" said Ginny. Harry pulled a face and looked at Ron who mouthed 'mental' back at him and Harry tried hard to conceal a chuckle.

"No! It's a great idea," Ginny persisted. "Fleur, read it out again." Clearing her throat, Fleur read from the small book in her hands.

"As ze lotus flower grows up from ze mud at ze bottom and rises above to display an object of beauty, so people also grow and change into something more beautiful. Ze symbol of ze lotus flower represents ze 'hard time in life zat 'as been overcome. Ze tattoo of ze lotus flower ees popular for people who 'ave gone through ze 'ard time and 'ave come out of eet," Fleur paused and looked up at Harry as if judging his reaction. Harry smiled faintly and squeezed Ginny lightly but said nothing.

"A flower tattoo?" Ron asked incredulously. "I still think that's mental. He's a _man_, flower tattoos are for_ girls_. Now Fleur, she could get away with a flower tattoo!" Fleur snorted indelicately.

"I do not 'ave a_ flower_ tattoo, Ronald," she said disdainfully, "I 'ave a Welsh Green, right about 'ere." She waved her hand in the vague direction of her left breast and Ron gulped and the tips of his ears went red. Ginny burst into uncontrollable giggles and Bill grinned broadly as if a particularly nice memory was currently scrolling through his brain. Harry just stared at her.

"Really?" he blurted before he could stop himself. Fleur just nodded. She seemed strangely reluctant to explain further but Bill cleared his throat suddenly and nodded at her.

"Tell him," he said softly. Fleur looked between Bill and Harry nervously. Ginny's giggles subsided and she went quiet, watching her sister-in-law intently.

"Viktor, 'e 'as ze Chinese Fireball. Eet iz over 'is heart," she stopped uncomfortably for a few seconds before hurrying on. "We went to ze tattooist togezer, before we went 'ome after ze Tournament. Eet was … to pay ze tribute to Cedric." The group was silent, George had swung back around and Jonathon was watching them in confusion and interest.

"Why didn't you take Harry?" demanded Ron suddenly, forcefully. Harry said nothing but clung to Ginny as if she was holding him upright as familiar bands of grief gripped him. Fleur looked apologetic and shrugged one shoulder delicately.

"We could not. 'E was not of age," she explained softly. Harry smiled at her and the bands of grief encircling his chest seemed to ease a little.

"What a shame I can't see it," he said as he winked, making Fleur blush delicately. They stood there in silence, remembering for a moment before Jonathon cleared his throat hesitantly.

"This Cedric, sounds like he, er was," here he paused, "a friend of yours?"

"Yeah, he was," said Harry, "one of the first casualties of the Second War."

"Sounds like he was a real mate," said Jonathon, nodding his head at Fleur. "I got a tattoo when I came of age." Jonathon rolled up his pant leg and pushed down his sock. There, fluttering around his ankle was a tattoo of a pixie.

"I know it looks kind of daft but that's what me mum always called us, her pair of naughty little pixies. She didn't even know what real pixies were, being a Muggle. We got a right laugh out of it when Professor Fletcher introduced 'em in second year," he rolled his pant leg back down and stared out over the water. "We were only sixteen. Not all that little anymore, not really but she still called us that. We never meant no harm – just high spirits, y'know?" There was a lengthy pause before Jonathon continued.

"We went to a Thunderer-Warrior game; playing for a spot in the finals. Some idiots near the boundary decided to throw things at the Warrior's Keeper. He didn't sort of take that too well. He flew at the crowd and the Thunderer Chasers started scoring up a storm with the goals unmanned," Jonathon had a faraway look on his face and his eyes were beginning to sparkle with unshed tears. "The brawl in the stands was magnificent but it went pretty much downhill from there. Both the teams started brawling and even though it's been against the rules, International standards be damned, for Warriors and Thunderers to bring wands onto the field since the Catastrophe of 1889, someone obviously had one.

"Blew the stands apart. They reckoned afterwards it was a stray bludgeoning spell. David fell about fifty feet. We were up pretty high. Me older brother managed to grab me but David … fell," Jonathon let a lone tear escape down his cheek. It was startling. He had been nothing but jovial and cheerful the short time they had known him. "We woulda been seventeen in three more weeks. Hardest thing I ever did was go back for seventh year without me twin brother. So I went and got me pixie tattoo before I went, so I could sorta take him with me. Been nearly six years and I still miss him." George made a strangled noise in his throat as Jonathon swiped at his cheek with the back of his hand. He looked up to see the rest of them, eyes riveted on George and he swung to look at him.

George started to tremble and Ron finally broke out of the stupor they were all in and dashed over to his older brother, catching him just as George began to crumple to the ground. Jonathon, alarmed, looked back to the others. Harry saw Hermione swallow heavily. She was watching Ron hold George as he cried silently.

"It's not supposed to still hurt," wailed George suddenly, startling them all. Ginny pulled herself free of Harry's arms and flew to George, wrapping her arms around him as her own silent tears coursed down her cheeks. The three youngest Weasleys sank to the stone floor of the pavilion and Jonathon, confused, turned to Hermione, his eyes begging for an explanation. It was Bill who offered one. Pulling out his Muggle wallet he flipped it open and handed it to Jonathon. Inside was a picture of his family on his wedding day, he and Fleur standing together in the middle, his parents either side of them and his siblings, except Percy, gathered around. There, next to Mr Weasley stood both Fred and George making silly faces at the camera. Jonathon's eyes went wide and he looked up in shock as Bill, pointing at the twins, quietly spoke.

"Fred … he – he was killed two months ago."

"In the war?" Jonathon whispered and Harry nodded. Jonathon swore. "Strewth, if I haven't gone and put me foot in it again! I've got a knack for ear bashin' youse about just the wrong things." Jonathon shook his head at himself.

"You weren't to know," said Hermione, watching Ron and George. Watching Ron take care of George, it seemed as though Ron was the older brother and George the younger. Ron had one arm around George's shoulders as he handed him a handkerchief with the other. Ginny was kneeling next to them her hand on George's knee and George himself had his head on Ron's shoulder. Harry saw Ron whisper something to George who sat up and Ron suddenly looked older, more mature, like the man he was now. George laughed weakly and Ginny smiled. Ron rose to his feet and then helped George up.

"Sorry," muttered George as he turned to Jonathon who shook his head fiercely.

"No, don't be sorry. I'm sorry …. I didn't know."

"I didn't tell you … can't know," George shrugged. "I'm fine." Jonathon shook his head at that, sorrow etched on his features as he looked George's tear stained face.

"It will be," the Australian said. "It doesn't hurt this bad forever. Something missing still, but it doesn't hurt so bad anymore." Harry felt a rush of affection for their new friend. None of them, as hard as they had tried, had been, or ever would be able, to talk to George like this, to reassure him and comfort him. Another tear leaked from George's eye and dripped slowly down his face as he looked at Jonathon.

"It's like … he's still here and then I turn around and … he's not. I keep trying to talk to him and he's … not there," said George brokenly. While Harry and the others had sensed all of this, it was the first time any of them had heard George say it out loud. His voice was filled with anguish and heartbreak. "I just miss him … so much." Jonathon took a step towards George.

"I know," he said simply. "I know. It gets easier, I promise." George suddenly looked so vulnerable, standing there and a cold wind whipped up out of nowhere, gusting through the pavilion and making them all shiver. George wrapped his arms around himself and nodded absently and the group stood there in silence for some minutes. Jonathon hesitantly cleared his throat.

"Say, do any of you like Quidditch?" he asked. Hermione burst out laughing and Harry grinned.

"I do believe I am the only one of us who hasn't played it," said Hermione. "This lot're nutters for it."

"Well," Jonathon said slowly, "the thing is that after the accident the AQL – that's the Quidditch League – gave us a family box. Me brother and me don't really make an entire family so it's never been full but there's a Warriors game on tonight. If you wanna come?"

"Do we want to watch Quidditch?" asked Ron, grinning. "You're asking Weasleys if they want to watch Quidditch? Let's go!"

The Wollongong Warriors were playing the Newcastle Narguns, Australia's all female team. To get to the Quidditch pitch, located in a remote section of the National Parks surrounding Newscastle, north of Sydney, the group travelled by a uniquely Australian form of travel; Flidging.

It was quite simple, even logical, when it was explained. When wizards had first come to Australia they brought with them the English customs, including those of jumping into fireplaces when travelling. This proved ultimately untenable on the hot continent and most wizards began to fly everywhere, creating a lot of trouble for the Magical Law Enforcement Squad. Being seen by Muggles became a very big problem and the smuggling of banned flying carpets had been an issue during the nineteenth century. Witches and wizards were most active during the winter months when lighting fires and travelling through them was not such a trial. Many Central Australian wizarding communities experienced high degrees of isolation because of the length of time during which Floo travel was untenable. When Muggles introduced electricity and Australians generally stopped having fireplaces altogether, wizarding homes began to look quite odd with their chimneys, smoking at odd times of the year. Wizarding genius, (according to Jonathon) Billy Madigan, had devised an ingenious way of concealing the Floo and making it comfortable at the same time.

Most wizarding homes and businesses boasted, in one corner of the kitchen, a large, white chest. Wreathed in magic, these chests were charmed to be rather large cold cupboards resembling Muggle refrigerators. If a Muggle happened upon one they thought they were looking at a fridge but when a wizard opened one it was concealing a fireplace. Not only did the cooling charms on the chest fool Muggles into thinking they had opened a fridge, but they made Floo travel a lot more comfortable given you departed and arrived at an icy location. Billy, the genius (Ron muttered to Harry that he doubted Billy's genius, just between the two of them) had diverted all the wizarding flues to local Muggle power stations and other industrial outlets and it blended with Muggle emissions so that smoke didn't waft out of thin air - or houses that were already deemed strange, on days where the temperature hit a Century.

The actual Floo travel wasn't that much different and not all establishments had a Flidge but it was largely the way it was done so local colloquialism (and Billy Madigan) had named it Flidging whether there was a Flidge present or not. It was the preferred method of travel for short distances only. Some of the larger distances involved were unworkable. There were simply too many vast stretches of deserted country to connect the Flidges to each other. It kept Ernie and his Roobus in business.

"Me mum thinks it's a complete porkie pie when I tell her we travel through the fridges," said Jonathon as he handed the pot of Flidge powder around. "Course they're not really fridges are they, but she don't really get that either. Good woman my mum, but not real into the whole wizard thing. Now you all know where we're going? Wollemi Quidditch Pitch." And Jonathon vanished in a flash of green flames. One by one the others followed him, emerging into a long, narrow corridor where dozens of wizards and witches were emerging from rows of Flidges.

"It's good work being a Flidge maintenance officer," mused Jonathon watching a portly wizard in navy blue robes wave a wand at a nearby Flidge in frustration. "I mean, he don't look like he's having a good time, but he's never out of work, is he?" Indeed it looked as though maintaining the long line of Flidges in this corridor alone could take a considerable amount of time.

"There is an awful lot of er, Flidges," agreed Hermione.

"Only way to get all the barrackers here on time," said Jonathon as he led them towards a rickety looking flight of stairs that led up to a rather lopsided little door. "They messed about with broom travel first but you gotta hide that from the Muggles and the prescribed routes were getting blocked and then the broom parking when everybody arrived, nightmare it was. This might be the greatest area of wilderness in these parts but we just can't charm an area big enough to conceal the pitch and the broom holding areas.

"It's too rugged to run a train line in. Ernie was gunna run the Roobus in at one stage but he nearly dropped it to the bottom of a gorge. Apparating in works okay if you're licensed but most people just Flidge in now." They had reached the top of the stairs and Jonathon pushed open the little lopsided door. They filed in to the little room as gasped when they saw glittering pitch beyond the open box they were now standing in. It wasn't as big as the Quidditch World Cup but it was impressive all the same.

The box they were in was decorated with a plush red carpet and a series of mismatched armchairs. The six goal hoops stood at either end of the pitch, glittering in the light that seemed to come from a thousand lanterns strung up around the edges of the pitch. A large billboard dominated one side of the pitch and it currently scrolled advertisements for local businesses. A number of agile looking wizards flew brooms from box to box offering refreshments from chests perched precariously on the back of their broomsticks. Whenever one turned to extract a delicacy from the box Harry thought they would fall off and plunge to the earth below but they were obviously well practiced at what they did.

"Cor, you Aussies take your sport seriously," marveled Ron as he gazed into the pitch. George, Harry and Ginny joined him, hanging over the edge of the box, drinking in the atmosphere of the game. The pitch was filled with miniature armies of dancing mascots putting on a pre game show for the crowd and music was pumping from an unseen source. Jonathon laughed as he came up behind them.

"Muggles and wizards alike, sport's a religion around here, mate!" said Jonathon as he beckoned one of the broom-riding refreshment wizards over. "The most worshipped in the land are sportsmen, even if they get themselves into trouble with the law – Oh, eight pies mate - Muggles are particularly bad at idolising the biggest mugs out there! We've had our share of course. Was Blue Terrigan who caused a big ruckus when the dopey galah thought he'd give Muggle drugs a try. _The Oracle_ had a field day when he managed to con some dealer into giving him the wrong sort. Opening season game for the Brisbane Boomerangs and the silly plonker goes and falls off his broom! Lifetime ban Blue's got now."

"Here why would anyone call their kid Blue?" asked George. "That barman called me Blue as well come to think of it." Jonathon laughed as he collected the meat pies from the refreshment wizard.

"It's the hair mate," he chortled. He only received seven blank looks in return. "Universal nickname for all redheads."

"Well, that's just stupid," muttered Ron as he took the offered pie. "Where're the peas?" Jonathon handed him a red bottle.

"No peas here mate, just the dead horse," he said. Ron looked at him, revolted, as Jonathon burst out laughing. "Ah, I love trying out this Aussie slang on you lot. It's priceless." He wiped a tear from his eye that had leaked during his rather insane moment of hilarity. "It's only tomato sauce." Jonathon continued to chuckle as they sank into the various armchairs and waited patiently for the game to begin.

"Now, what you gotta remember is that the Narguns are the first and only all female team in the League and that none of the other teams have any female players on them at all," Jonathon told them. "They're a pretty new team, only about five years I reckon and they've got good backing and extra Ministry grants – which is a political minefield really – but they can't catch a trick. The blokes all play dirty on 'em. But the Warriors are down three players tonight. The Thunderers caused major injury to two in the last game and the third got himself a four match ban for trying to referee by way of his fists. So they are playing with reserve players. The bookies reckon this is the best odds the Narguns've ever had."

"How come there's only seven female players in the entire League?" demanded Ginny. "Do they think women can't play or are they just a bunch of sexist pigs?" Ron, Harry and George shrank away from her, looking at her blazing eyes warily.

"Er," began Jonathon as he took a step back, "I honestly, really, don't know. It wasn't sort of my decision. But er, well I definitely think there should be more female Quidditch players. I mean they're good to watch-"

"Because they are very talented players," interrupted George hastily. "Here Ginny, have a chocolate." George dug deep into the pockets of his jacket, offering her a half wrapped piece of Honeydukes, complete with pocket fluff. Ginny eyed both the chocolate and George disdainfully and turned her back on them, suddenly intently interested in the advert currently scrolling across the billboard for _Superior Sporting Supplies - where you can get all your Quidditch needs – trading since 1857 at number twenty four Origin Alley_. "I've always suspected sexist piggery at work in the League," Jonathon whispered to George as he eyed Ginny carefully. "But I'm not about to admit that to her right now."

"Very wise."

Ron arched an eyebrow at Harry and tilted his head in Ginny's direction. Her back was ramrod straight and her arms crossed angrily over her chest. A distant roar from the crowd heralded the arrival of the Warriors and Harry watched them flying triumphantly around the pitch as Ginny's back stiffened even more. The Warriors were either both naturally burly and arrogant-looking or they had an inflated sense of confidence at the prospect of facing what was obviously the League's weakest team. They looked menacing and many had leering grins on their faces as they watched the Narguns enter the playing arena. Ginny shifted slightly and Harry could see her eyes, glittering with barely suppressed fire, as she watched the opposing team swirl breathtakingly around the pitch. The fourteen players on the pitch flew into position to start the match and the referee brought out the balls, ready to begin. Ginny suddenly swung around.

"Not that any man in my life would think I couldn't play," she said, a challenge clearly evident in her tone. Her brothers all shook their heads vigourously and Harry smiled at her.

"There's nothing you couldn't do Ginny," he said and winked at her. Ginny blushed and her posture softened slightly. "You're already a brilliant Quidditch player and any professional team would be lucky to have you." Ron rolled his eyes at him but Harry just grinned at Ron from behind Ginny who had jumped into Harry's lap and thrown her arms around his neck. Harry slid his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek before whispering that they were going to miss the start of the game.

Soon they were hanging over the edge of the box, cheering on the Narguns as the all female team threw themselves into the match. It was a brutal game and more than once Harry found himself wincing as a Bludger connected with a player or a broom went spiraling to the ground before its rider could correct the descent. Ron and Ginny began a heated discussion about the Warrior's Chasers and their attacking formation and George soon interjected that the Nargun's Beaters needed to disrupt it more – they couldn't rely on the Keeper entirely to block shots.

"But ze Beater, zey are to hit ze Seeker, not ze Chasers," insisted Fleur.

"Ha! Like George ever sent a Bludger at a Seeker!" Ginny harrumphed.

"Well most of the time me and Fred were too busy sending them away from Harry!" protested George. "Direction wasn't really something we paid attention to when saving him from certain death!" It did not escape Harry's notice that for the first time George had mentioned Fred without stumbling over his name or seeming visibly distressed.

"But isn't the Keeper's job to block the shots? Why should they rely on Beaters to disrupt the Chaser line up?" asked Bill. "That's just lazy Keeping."

"Different ways of playing I guess," muttered Ron as he studied the technique of the Warrior's Keeper. There was a collective gasp around the stadium and Ginny groaned as the Nargun's Keeper clipped the middle goal hoop and flew out of control halfway across the pitch letting three goals through before getting back into position. It brought the score to 220 – 80 in favour of the Warriors. The Newcastle Narguns were being slaughtered and Harry searched the pitch for the little golden winged ball as the Weasley siblings continued to debate the benefits and merits of different playing styles.

Harry saw the Snitch seconds before the Warrior's Seeker spotted it and went swooping after it. His robes flew out behind him as he executed a magnificent dive that took him across the pitch and the path of the Nargun Chasers, sending two of them spinning unchecked to the earth as they tried to evade the opposing Seeker. Harry's eyes were on the Snitch as it zipped across the pitch, glinting in the lamplight, and he did not see the brawl that broke out behind the play between one of the Nargun's Beaters and two of the Warrior's Chasers. The Beater had the advantage, although her use of her Beater's bat was brutal and likely illegal.

Harry's eyes were riveted on the Snitch as the Nargun's Seeker, a slight woman with dark hair that streamed behind her, swooped down, past the Warrior's goalposts and straight to the earth before leveling out and shooting up, directly under the Snitch to snatch it out from under the overconfident Warrior's nose. The crowd erupted as the Warrior's Seeker, dazed, flew directly into the side of the stands and his broom handle wedged there, suspending him twenty feet above the ground, dangling ridiculously from the tail of his broomstick.

"Yeah!" yelled Ron, pumping his fist in the air. "Take that you sexist pigs!" The rest of the box watched, amused as Hermione threw herself at Ron and caught his lips in a searing kiss. Ginny giggled bashfully and Bill grinned while George rolled his eyes dramatically and taking Hermione's jacket which she had discarded on the back of her chair, threw it over their heads, effectively blocking them from his view. Ron and Hermione carried on regardless and Harry swore he could see Ron's hands move into a rather compromising position under the jacket and he shuddered and looked away, back out to the pitch where the Nargun's Seeker was circling the pitch victoriously, holding the tiny struggling ball aloft.

"I can't wait to play Quidditch," said Ginny softly as she watched the winning team celebrate. "I've really missed it. I really do want to try out for professional Quidditch, you know. I wasn't joking or trying to get one over Ron when Oliver suggested it." She looked Harry in the eye as if daring him to say anything.

"I know, Ginny," he said honestly. "I didn't think you were joking. I really do think you'd be fabulous at it, I wasn't just saying that." Ginny studied him intently.

"You weren't?" she asked. Harry shook his head.

"Did you think I was?"

"Yes – No … I don't know," she confessed. "Part of me wondered if you were humouring me. You talk about getting married and that's not really going to be possible if I'm off playing Quidditch."

"Why not?" demanded Harry, softly but decisively. "Who made the rule that you can't be married and play Quidditch too?" George and Jonathon were busy ribbing Ron and Hermione for their earlier display and Bill and Fleur were sitting closely, whispering to each other. Harry and Ginny were effectively alone. Ginny shrugged.

"It's just, you know, when you settle down and get married you have to make a home and stuff," she chewed on a fingernail nervously. "Blokes want to come home to a nice tidy, cozy house and all that, don't they? Baking and cooking and scrubbed floors, that doesn't happen if their wife is off playing Quidditch."

"Marriage isn't keeping house, Ginny. It's making a home, a family," said Harry. Ginny looked at him in surprise as he continued. "Clean houses and baking don't make happy families. I don't want to get married because I get a housekeeper out of it – I don't even know if you can do that!" He grinned and Ginny playfully slapped his arm. "I already know how to do all that for myself. I want to marry you, when we're both ready, because I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If I have to do all the cooking and the cleaning while you play Quidditch, well you'd better buy me some cook books – I'm only really good at breakfast … of course, I do have a house elf …" Ginny laughed before sobering slightly.

"I don't think I'm ready for marriage yet," she whispered. "I've been worried every time you brought it up because I don't want to settle down and cook and clean straight out of school. I thought that's what you wanted." Harry shook his head.

"I just want you to be happy," he said softly, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't mean to make you feel pressured. I'm sorry." Ginny caught his hand and lowered it, tucking it around her waist. Harry pulled her towards him as she reached up and slid her arms around his neck.

"It's okay," she said so only he could hear. "I want to marry you too, one day, not too far away, but not yet. Can you wait, you know, until I sort myself out?" Harry smiled and nodded, lowering his face to hers.

"Ginny, I will wait for you forever, if that's how long it takes," he breathed as he claimed her lips in a kiss that she deepened immediately. Harry's other hand slid around her shoulders and ran down her back to her hips. He lost himself in her embrace and the feel of her body pressed against his and the way her curves felt under his hands as he ran them up and down her body. His arms tightened instinctively and he lifted her up ever so slightly as his tongue caressed hers while her hands caressed his neck.

Neither of them noticed or cared when George threw Hermione's jacket over them and they continued kissing heatedly until Ron rather pointedly tapped him on the shoulder because it was time to leave. Harry Flidged back to the hotel with a broad smile on his face the whole way.


	18. Chapter 18

**Skies Are Blue**

Sunday in Origin Alley dawned bright, clear and cloudless. Harry lay peacefully in bed, slowly surfacing from a deep and satisfying slumber when Ron and George began to obnoxiously fight over using the ensuite. Ron was anxious to get away with Hermione for the day and George was going out with Jonathon – the possibility of picking up some 'sheila birds' was not out of the question. As he reached for his glasses Harry idly wondered what George had going with Katie if he was so willing to pick up casual women but mentally shrugged because it was none of his business. The argument was averted when Hermione and Ginny came into the room and Hermione declared their ensuite free and George raced in to use it.

"Don't leave a mess in the sink!" yelled Ginny. She turned to Harry a dazzling smile on her face. "What are we going to do today?" Looking at Ron and Hermione, Harry shrugged. Hermione averted her gaze and looked pointedly at Ron who failed to immediately grab the shower now that it was no longer under dispute and sat back down to eat the remains of his breakfast at leisure. Harry wondered why he hadn't just let George go first while he ate. Ron swallowed the last bite of his crumpet and shrugged apologetically at Harry.

"We've got plans," he said simply before turned a delicate shade of pink. "And, er … well, they don't involve you." Harry stifled a chuckle while Hermione groaned.

"Could you have been any ruder, Ron?" she hissed. Ron scraped the chair on the floor as he got up from the tiny table on which the most enormous breakfast tray Harry had ever seen was balanced precariously.

"He's not offended, Hermione," said Ron over his shoulder as he headed for the ensuite. "He's been trying to figure out a way to ditch us and be alone with Ginny since he woke up!"

"Since yesterday, actually," muttered Harry under his breath while Ginny giggled and Hermione huffed, sitting down at the table and helping herself to a glass of juice and a piece of toast that Ron had somehow missed. Ginny stood awkwardly next to Hermione and Harry suddenly sensed what it was she was awkward about. He propped himself up on his elbows, heedless of his bedcovers pooling around his waist and exposing his bare chest and quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Don't I get a good morning snog today?" he asked boldly. Ginny blushed heavily before flinging herself across the room and on top of him and captured his lips in a kiss. Harry brought his arms around her and they both fell back on the bed. They heard the rustle of Hermione burying herself behind the _Sunday Oracle_ and continued kissing, Harry's hands respectably above Ginny's waist while he trailed kisses down her jaw and down into the hollow where her neck and shoulders began. He felt Ginny run her fingers over his chest as she pulled away and bent down to press a kiss to the oval shaped scar over his heart and his eyes slid shut only to snap open seconds later when George slammed the door between the two rooms on his way back from the girls' ensuite.

"Stop that!" he grumbled as he threw his towel over a chair. "We don't need to see that sort of thing so soon after breakfast. Bill and Fleur need to remember that too and put up bloody locking charms as well as silencing ones!"

"Well, if you will wander in on people who are on their honeymoon, George," said Hermione idly as she turned a page.

"No! They need to keep their _activities_ to the bed instead of leaning against the door!" cried George plaintively. "How was I supposed to know they weren't actually knocking? I've been scarred for life!" His little tirade was cut short as Hermione turned the next page and gasped. George hurried over to see what had surprised her while Harry and Ginny both tried to leap off the bed at the same time and came tumbling to the floor in a tangle of bedclothes with a loud thump. The noise brought Ron flying out of the ensuite clad only in a towel.

"What the bloody hell-" Ron caught sight of Harry and Ginny tangled on the floor and groaned. "Just keep it in until we've left, okay?" Harry blushed and stood up hurriedly.

"We weren't doing anything, Ron," he said as he moved behind Hermione to read the paper over her shoulder.

"That's not really your best side, mate," said George appraisingly as he inspected the newspaper. "Still I don't expect you knew you were posing for photographers when you were groping our baby sister like that last night." Ron scrambled over his bag and a pair of discarded shoes to peer at the paper over Harry's shoulder.

"Bloody hell," he exclaimed. "Well at least they might lay off you and Hermione now. Hey, wait a minute – Harry is your hand up her jumper?" Harry snatched the paper out of Hermione's hands.

"Don't you lot have somewhere to be today?" he asked pointedly, refolding the paper and tucking it under one arm as he folded his arms across his chest. He glared at Ron who muttered something about getting dressed as he ducked back into the ensuite. George took a look in the mirror and proclaimed himself devastatingly handsome before sauntering to the door. He turned around and looked Harry up and down.

"I do suggest you change into something else before you go out in public today, my good man," he said, winking. "And do your hair or the photos are going to turn out dreadfully." George left the room whistling jauntily while Hermione shook her head exasperatedly.

"He's right though," she said. "There are bound to be photographers out there today, just waiting to take your picture. Be careful, okay?" And she swept out of the room returning seconds later with her handbag and banging on the ensuite door she demanded that Ron hurry up. They were gone moments later, Ron leaving behind a dire warning about where Harry put his hands.

"Sod off, Ron," muttered Harry as he and Ginny found themselves alone.

"Can I see it?" asked Ginny softly into the silence. Wordlessly Harry handed her the paper. He watched as she opened it and flicked through the pages until she came to the photograph of them kissing in the Quidditch box the night before. His photograph self ran his hands down her back and, yes, up under the hem of her jumper. Harry sighed. He hadn't even realised he'd done that last night. Ginny was reading the article printed underneath.

_WEDDING OF THE CENTURY CALLED OFF_

_Well, that is what this publication assumes given the highly damning evidence contained in this picture captured last night at the Warrior – Nargun game out at Wollemi. It is evident, by the neat hair of the maiden in this picture that this is not the woman with whom Harry Potter, wizarding Britain's most eligible bachelor, was planning his recent nuptials. Could he be eligible once again? Was the rumoured wedding just that, a rumour? Who is the woman in the picture and what relationship, if any, do they share?_

The article went on to list a few of the events associated with Harry's life and an estimation of his net worth, surmising in the end that the woman in the picture was simply a gold digger, whoever she was. A low growl escaped Ginny's throat.

"I am not a gold digger," she muttered. "And you are worth more than three times as much as that!" Harry looked at her curiously.

"I am?" he asked in surprise. "Er, how do you know that?"

"I asked Bill and he got me the balance," she said absently, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she turned the page.

"Huh," said Harry, staring at her. She must have felt his gaze on her for she looked up.

"What?"

"I never thought to ask the balance before," was all he said as he grabbed an apple from the breakfast tray and headed for the ensuite to shower.

"That's okay, isn't it?" he heard her ask softly. Harry turned to smile at her.

"Of course it is," he assured her. "I'm going to shower, let's go spend some of it." And he winked at her before sauntering through the little door in the corner and into the ensuite.

**************************

Harry had never before spent a day doing _nothing_ and yet everything with Ginny, or indeed anyone. The first order of the day had been to find some breakfast. Ginny had insisted that an apple was not enough to sustain him and they had ventured into Tucker Run to find several small cafes open and they shared a plate of pancakes, washed down with strong coffee. At first Ginny had protested the idea that they finish_ breakfast_ with desert but Harry ordered the chocolate mud cake she had been eyeing off anyway.

"Well," she reasoned as she picked up the fork, "it wouldn't do to _waste_ it." Harry grinned as he watched her stab the cake and maneuver a dainty piece into her mouth. Her eyes slid shut as she pulled the fork slowly from her mouth, sucking off the remnants of the fudge icing. Harry gulped. His eyes were riveted as he watched her pop another piece into her mouth and smile in appreciation of the delicacy. He was sitting right next to her and suddenly felt that it wasn't close enough. Ginny opened her eyes.

"This is so good. Do you want some?" Ginny loaded the fork and aimed it at Harry's mouth without waiting for an answer. He eyed the fork warily for a moment but obediently opened his mouth. He was unprepared for the sensual experience that was to be fed chocolate cake by Ginny Weasley. As his lips closed around the smooth chocolate treat he could see the sparkle in her eyes and the smile on her lips. She pulled the fork slowly out of his mouth and, just as hers had done, his eyes closed almost involuntarily, rendering all his other senses acute. As the chocolate melted on his tongue he could feel the heat where her knee pressed against his leg, her scent overwhelmed him and he heard her breathe softly as the clink of the fork against the plate revealed her intent to feed him more cake.

Harry opened his eyes and conjured another fork and spearing another bite he raised it to her beautiful lips. The world was just the two of them and a piece of chocolate cake. When the cake was gone and the two forks discarded Harry leaned in and captured Ginny's lips in a soft kiss that tasted of chocolate and love. They did not deepen the kiss, it remained soft and sweet and chaste but as Harry entwined his fingers with Ginny's the kiss touched deep inside his soul and he felt drawn to her in a way he had not been before. They were barely touching but there was something intimate in that kiss with only their lips and hands touching, something that he had not experienced before. As he pulled away slowly, his lips lingering feather light on hers for just a moment he squeezed her hand with his to let her know that he was still with her and he watched, entranced, as she opened her eyes to look into his.

They sat in silence for a moment, looking deep into each other's souls. The moment was broken when a waiter dropped a pile of plates he had been levitating into the kitchen and they hit the floor with a resounding crash. Harry jumped and then smiled at Ginny.

"Let's go exploring," he said to her. Ginny nodded, grinning. They settled the account and then strolled out into the weak mid-morning sunshine. Sunday morning had not slowed the bustle of Origin Alley and it was as full of witches and wizards as it had been the day before. A stout wizard in purple robes and a pointy hat was hawking his crystal balls from a cart in the middle of the street while a thin, sticklike witch who reminded Harry uncannily of Professor Trelawney was selling what appeared to be odd tea cups and enormous bags of tea leaves. The two divination peddlers were glaring at each other as they called out to passersby to sample their wares. Ginny stopped to admire the rose pattern on one of the teacups but Harry, eyeing the thin witch warily tugged on her hand and gently urged her forward. He was vindicated in his action when seconds later spellfire broke out between the thin witch and the purple robed wizard, a sizzling red spell sailing through the air where Ginny had been seconds before.

As Harry instinctively wrapped one arm around Ginny and pulled out his wand with the other hand, several shopkeepers spilled out into the street and with practiced ease seemed to round up the combatants, pack up their carts and deposit them each at different ends of the Alley. The incident seemed to faze no one and the narrow, winding Alley flared back to life within minutes. Harry put his wand away slowly and looked around warily. He was acutely aware that Ginny was trembling in his arms and pulled her close protectively.

"Are you okay?" he asked her softly. She nodded slightly, still trembling and Harry was not convinced. He attempted to reassure her softly. "I'm pretty sure that was just an _Expelliarmus_."

"Looked more like _Stupefy_ to me," muttered Ginny. She straightened up and took a deep breath, putting on a show of being very relaxed. "Oh, I'm fine, no problem, no worries," she said, straightening her clothes and taking a few steps. Harry rushed after her, putting a hand on her arm.

"Are you sure?"

"Really, Harry," she smiled a genuine smile, "I'm okay, just startled." Harry let himself be convinced and dragged to the nearest shop window to have a look.

Harry savoured the opportunity to peer into shop windows at his leisure, relishing the feel of Ginny's hand safely ensconced in his own and the wonders of a brand new community to explore. He let himself be dragged from window to window while Ginny exclaimed over unfamiliar sweets, exotic looking wands and a window with a display of multicoloured quills. As he watched her almost press her nose against the window of a tiny shop that appeared to sell dainty little ornaments and adornments Harry realised that she was accustomed to looking in windows only and was unlikely to actually enter any of these shops of her own volition.

"Oh look at that, Harry," said Ginny suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts. "Isn't it beautiful? Hermione would adore that." She was pointing to a tiny jeweled handbag that reminded Harry somewhat of Hermione's beaded bag only this one was golden with red jewels. It looked remarkably like something especially designed for Gryffindors.

"Come on then," said Harry as he pulled her into the tiny shop. The inside of the store was crammed with more little bits and pieces than Harry had thought were possible. Ginny wandered from shelf to shelf exclaiming over sparkling hair accessories, glass ornaments and strings of beads. Harry trailed after her, just watching her eyes sparkle and her lips curve into a happy smile as she looked at herself in a small jeweled mirror that told her she looked radiant. He was content just to watch. He had absolutely no idea what half the stuff in the little shop was for but figured witches knew what to do with tiny statues made of wire and cloth and delicate little bowls with filigree lids. There was one corner in which a small writing table sat adorned with a lace doily and a tiny pink, fluffy cat figurine that stretched and then curled up to sleep as he watched.

"I like cats," said Ginny from behind him, "but that's just a little too creepy." Harry could only agree and, desperate to erase the pink cat from his memory, he turned and waved rather vaguely at the window display with the little jeweled bag in it.

"D'you think it would make a good birthday present for Hermione?" he asked her. Ginny nodded absently as she examined set of tiny figurines near the counter. They were of round, chubby babies with enormous eyes that blinked at her when she reached out a finger to touch the little hats on their heads. The ones with strategically placed leaves appeared to be boys while others had on tiny fluffy skirts made of what appeared to be a flower.

"They're real you know, not like the Muggles think. Imagination, ha!" scoffed a wizened little old witch from a curtained doorway they had not noticed. "Even when they do notice things they think it's their imagination." The little old witch had twinkling blues eyes and was grinning, showing two rows of crooked white teeth.

"They look like little fairy babies," said Ginny, smiling as the little chubby figurines clambered to their feet and toddled along the edge of the shelf on which they were perched.

"They are," said the little old witch, "Gumnut Babies. The Muggles think one of them invented them you know … Muggles, it's obvious she was a witch, how else would she know about them?

"Some say they must be enchanted to remain babies forever as they never grow up, born babies and die babies. I think they just look different as grown up fairies. Live in the bush, they do. Smaller than those figurines mind you, no bigger than your thumb I reckon. Course I've never seen one myself, not many people have, too many Banksia Men." The wizened old witch shook her head sadly. Harry just raised his eyebrows at Ginny. The woman sounded completely dotty.

"Course in areas where there's lots of them Bowtruckles some folks reckon they seen Gumnut Babies," continued the little old woman, unaware or uncaring that she was not making much sense to the two British tourists. "Banksia Men don't like Bowtruckles, crazy introduced species." Harry shook his head ever so slightly but it was clear the old woman had no problems with her sight for she told him off at once.

"I saw that young man! Don't you go shaking your head at me! Think I'm barmy, don't you? Well let me tell you something, I'm as sprightly as they come. I'm as good as I was back when I was as young as this little slip of a thing!" she glared at him fiercely, her blue eyes unrelenting as she advanced towards the counter. "Now are you going to get some sort of treasure for your young lady or not? That's what brings you young fellas in. Lord knows I never see any of you in here on your own account!"

"But what are Banksia Men?" asked Ginny quietly as the little Gumnut Baby figurine climbed onto her outstretched palm and began circling, its little chest puffed out importantly.

"Nasty little villainous tree creatures," spat the old woman. "Terrible curse on the poor Gumnut Babies. Still, I suppose the Babies are introduced as well. Would have done us all some good I reckon if we'd left well enough alone. I mean it's bad enough we got Hippogriffs but bringing over Bowtruckles and Pixies is just asking for trouble."

"So Banksia Men are native tree folk then?" asked Harry, beginning to see what she was getting at.

'Yes, yes," said the wizened old woman impatiently. "That's what I've been saying. Bowtruckles get along well with the Turongs as a rule, live together quite fine but for some reason them Banksia Men get spooked by Bowtruckles. Suppose it's fitting then that Bowtruckles can't stand Banksia trees. Much prefer the gum and pine forests, do Bowtruckles."

"So a Turong then is another native tree dweller?" asked Ginny as she set the Gumnut Baby back on the shelf.

"Yes, don't see much of them in the cities though. Only get the domesticated sort of animal around here," said the old woman looking pointedly at her watch. "If you want educating in the life and times of Australian magical folk go ask old Seth at _Animalia_. I haven't got time to be educating foreigners about it. Now are you going to buy something for your young lady or not, Mr Potter?" Harry started, staring at her in surprise.

"Yes, yes," the old witch waved her hand at him huffily. "I'm not so old as senile and completely unaware of the goings on in this world. I know who you are." Harry smiled sheepishly as Ginny requested purchase of the tiny handbag in the window. As he pulled out the Galleons necessary to purchase the gift for Hermione he noticed Ginny was gazing wistfully at the little shelf of Gumnut Babies.

"Go on, get one," he said softly into her ear. "I like that little one with the red skirt." Ginny blushed as Harry's breath tickled her ear and he reached out and squeezed her hand.

"It's silly," she protested. "I haven't really got any other ornaments anyway." Harry heard the longing in her voice and marveled at the sliver of femininity she was showing. Sometimes in the midst of her brothers, in a home where money was tight and not spent on such frivolous trivialities as ornaments, it would be easy to forget that Ginny was a _girl_. Harry reached up and gently lifted down the little figurine in the red skirt.

"Well, this can be your first one and it can remind you of our first day out together," he said, smiling. "And when you are an old lady and a little girl comes and asks why grandma's got a funny little fat fairy on her dressing table you can tell her that you keep it always because it was the first gift grandpa ever bought you." Ginny laughed.

"Not true, you gave me books in first year," she said. Harry grimaced.

"Yes, well I didn't exactly have to buy those, did I? So it's not the same, not the same at all."

"Well, you can't just go buying everything I take a passing fancy to, Harry," Ginny said as the little old wizened witch wrapped their purchases and counted out the change.

"Yes I can," he whispered cheekily, "but I won't, because imagine how fat I would get if I let you feed me too much chocolate cake!" Handing her the little box with the Gumnut Baby figurine in it he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Thank you, Harry," Ginny said softly, slipping the little box into her pocket. Harry thanked the little old witch behind the counter and they turned to go.

"Hold onto him, young lady," said the old witch suddenly. Harry and Ginny turned. The witch was watching them, a strange glint in her eye that Harry could not decipher. Ginny just smiled as she took Harry's hand in hers.

"I will," she assured the old witch, "I haven't let him go, yet." With that they stepped out into Origin Alley and began walking leisurely towards a shop with cauldrons piled haphazardly under a faded awning. Harry slipped his arm around Ginny's shoulders, pulling her close.

"I'm holding onto you too, you know," he said quietly. "I'm never going to let you go." Ginny sighed happily and leaned into him.

"I don't ever want you to."

Harry and Ginny found _Animalia_ several doors away from the tiny shop staffed by the wizened old witch. A grey haired old wizard with a beard that rivaled Hagrid's, dressed in rather gubby grey robes, was seated out the front of the store in a rare patch of sunshine. Harry assumed this was old Seth.

"Mornin'," said the possible Seth in a low rumbly voice. "Let me know now if yer comin' inter the store ter buy anything. It'll take me a wee while to get meself outta this 'ere chair." Ginny looked thoughtfully at him.

"I don't know that we are buying anything," she said. "Can you take animals home internationally?" Seth looked up at her, squinting in what looked like a painful fashion.

"Depends on whether or not you can hide 'em in yer pocket lassie," he grinned showing uneven yellow teeth. "Yer can get permits fer some things, but yer can't take the birds and reptiles." Ginny peered into the shop through the rather grubby window.

"Goodness you do have an awful lot of reptiles," she said after a moment. "Where are all the fluffy animals?" Harry tried valiantly to hide his smirk. Luckily Ginny did not notice but the old man grinned at Harry and winked as he hoisted himself slowly out of the chair, his robes straightening out and revealing the name Seth sewn onto them near the left shoulder.

"Yer up fer the cost of the permit as well as the fluffy animal, son?" he asked as he ambled slowly into the shop. "Come in, come in then!" Harry and Ginny followed him inside. It turned out to be a fairly large shop filled to the brim with cages upon cages of animals stacked high on top of one another in a teetering pile until they reached the ceiling. Behind the parchment strewn counter near the back were rows and rows of bottles, packets and boxes on rickety looking shelves. They were marked with labels that proclaimed them such things as 'owl treats', 'flea powder' and 'tincture for the affliction of rashes'. A large cage with a magnificent looking white bird seated inside was standing at one end of the counter and the bird was spinning around on its perch and bobbing its head up and down as it stopped and eyed the cages behind it warily. Harry thought the bird was right to eye those particular cages warily because he could make out three ashwinders, one very large spider and a particularly vicious looking cross between an insect and a lizard.

There was a vast bank of screened aquariums near the front of the shop and the side walls were lined with rats, mice and small reptiles. Towards the back of the shop built in cages and enclosures contained tiny green and blue birds, yapping dogs and various species of cats. Harry was contemplating a cage of gamboling kittens wondering if every shop need remind him of Umbridge today when Ginny let out a little shriek. Spinning towards the sound he saw her near the reptile aquariums quite unharmed.

"I'm guessing Lizzie poked 'er tongue out at yer?" laughed Seth as he stood next to the counter, his arm inside the white bird's cage.

"It- it's _blue_!" stammered Ginny. Harry peered at the aquarium nearest Ginny but saw only a squat, striped lizard with tiny legs and a short tail. Investigating the other aquariums he found an eclectic assortment of miniscule lizards, buzzing insects, a rather alarming looking reptile that looked like it had a flat sort of ruffle draped over the top of its head and down its neck, an absolutely enormous lizard with sharp claws and several snakes. Harry idly spoke to one of the snakes, just to see what would happen and was pleased to note that nothing did. The snake remained as motionless as it had been. Seth, the white bird on his arm, shuffled slowly over to them.

"Well o' course 'er tongue were blue, she's a Blue Tongue," said Seth. "Wouldn't be any kind of Blue Tongue if she didn't 'ave a blue tongue." Suddenly the bird on Seth's arm squawked and a ruffle of yellow feathers suddenly stuck straight up on its head rather like a mohican.

"Blue tongue! Blue tongue!" parroted the bird. "Wouldn't be a Blue Tongue!" Ginny jumped and Harry laughed while she scowled.

"Well, I just don't expect lizards to have blue tongues and birds to talk!" she huffed defensively.

"They can't 'urt yer none lassie," said Seth, not unkindly. "Cocky 'ere is a right sociable bird, likes ter talk ter the pretty lassies." The impressive white bird bobbed its head up and down in Ginny's direction a few times before stretching its wings and screeching loudly.

"Pretty girl! Pretty girl!" Seth gave Cocky a bird treat and the bird nipped at his finger playfully before shuffling awkwardly to the end of his arm and stretched over to investigate Ginny's outstretched hand.

"G'wan, dance Cocky," said Seth.

"Dance Cocky! Dance Cocky!" said the bird and it began bobbing up and down. "Dance Cocky!" It wove from side to side, its yellow crest of feathers bobbing up and down and Ginny laughed delightedly. The bird stopped and looked at Ginny, its head tilted to one side. Ginny stretched out her finger again and the bird bent down to nip her finger before it began dancing again, following the direction of her finger. Ginny noticed and began waving her hand in the air, the bird following her every move.

"Dance Cocky!" squawked the bird once more before suddenly spreading its wings and taking flight. It moved so suddenly as it flew up to the rafters that the reptile with the flat ruffle draped on its head and the Blue Tongue both seemed to jump and hiss. The Blue Tongue exposed its tongue again and the other suddenly reared up on its hind legs and flared the ruffle out, baring its teeth. Harry who was still standing next to that one jumped, alarmed, and Ginny burst out laughing.

"Don't laugh," grumbled Harry, scowling. Ginny shook with laughter and Seth shook his head sadly.

"Yer better come up the back 'ere and 'ave a gander at the more domesticated sort of animals," he said, shuffling back to the counter, "right jumpy, yer lot."

Harry trailed after Ginny as she wandered past meowing cats and the odd Kneazle, a fluffy white rabbit and a few rather excitable Puffskeins. Harry watched Ginny coo at the animals and contemplated that today was the first time he had been able to take the time to simply watch Ginny and see what spiked her interest and what held her attention. He knew that she loved cats and that she was fond of Arnold. He also surmised that she had a particular liking for birds as she had always had more patience with Errol than anyone else and Hedwig had been particularly gentle with her. Her recent antics with Cocky and back home with Liberty simply confirmed this for him and he made mental notes as he watched her fondly. He felt that such careful observation of her character was adequate recompense for the fact that walking behind her also gave him ample opportunity to observe her swaying hips and … other areas of her anatomy.

He'd done the same, of course, in the little curio shop and now knew that she liked pretty hair things in muted, rather than garish colours, disliked large beaded necklaces and overly ornate hair brushes and had somewhat of a penchant for tiny baby fairy figurines. As Ginny bent over to pat a rather excitable small puppy that seemed to have a propensity for falling over its own feet, Harry stopped to appreciate the view while he contemplated what sort of jewelry she might like. His guess was something small and delicate, understated and definitely not flashy. Perhaps he could test his theory out, if they found a jewelry shop. He was roused from his musings by the increased agitation of the puppy which was now trying to jump out of the enclosure, scrabbling fiercely at the door, falling over every time she jumped.

"Oh dear, you've got yerself a right problem now," muttered Seth. "Downright ridiculously loyal Creelers are."

"Creeler? Isn't that just a dog?" asked Harry, gesturing at the enclosure, perplexed. Seth shook his head.

"Nup. That there is a Creeler," he said emphatically. "Some bright spark thought it would be a good idea to breed a Crup and a Blue Heeler. Now you got the intense loyalty of a Crup mixed with the intelligence and loyalty of a Heeler. And what yer gets is one mighty loyal dog that seems to know which witch or wizard they want to belong ter. And unless I miss my guess, and I never do, that Creeler there has picked _her_."

"Oh look, Harry!" cried Ginny. "Isn't she beautiful?" The small white puppy had a large black patch over one eye and ear, a stout little body and strong muscular legs. Her ears flopped about as she trotted across the enclosure to get a look at Harry. Her tail had already been docked and she sported another patch on one shoulder. She nearly overbalanced as she sat down, cocking her head curiously at Harry, looking at him with big, soulful eyes. Harry could not fathom how Ginny had taught her that in such a short period of time.

"Well, all I can say is our firstborn had better be a boy, because I'm already outnumbered," was all Harry said with a sigh as he held out his hand and said, "better get that paperwork."

Harry arranged with Seth to have the Creeler stay there until they left for home. At first Seth had been sceptical that the permits would go through in such a short time, explaining that he'd always found the British Ministry to be particularly slow at processing animal permit requests because the Minister himself had to rubber stamp them personally. Ginny assured him that it was not going to be a problem this time and suggested that they send the paperwork straight to Percy so that it didn't get waylaid by some well meaning Ministry official. When he realised that they knew the Minister personally Seth agreed to keep the Creeler until they were ready to leave because it was patently unfair, and probably not possible, to drag the animal around Australia on a bus.

"She can stay with Hagrid while we're in school," chattered Ginny excitedly as they left _Animalia_, the paperwork clutched tightly in her hand and Harry's money pouch considerably lighter. "He'll love that, a new breed and everything. Oh she's just so cute, Harry. Did you see her big brown eyes? And she's got that adorable patch over one eye. We have to think of a name for her!"

"She reminds me of Tonks," mused Harry as he crossed the street to the Post Office. Suddenly realising what that sounded like he stammered, "n-not that Tonks was in any way a dog. It's the clumsy thing …" he trailed off uncertainly as Ginny stopped dead in the middle of the street and he pulled her to the side just in time to stop her being run over by an erratic witch on a bicycle who turned to wave a fist at them threateningly and promptly rode into a pile of cauldrons, both rider and cauldrons clattering to the ground, bringing the proprietor of the cauldron shop out, shrieking. Ginny watched the altercation as the bike riding witch huffily straightened out the wheel of her bicycle with a well aimed spell and then Ginny turned her glistening eyes to Harry. He was alarmed because he did not think she'd been so upset as to be crying over a near miss with a cyclist.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked warily but Ginny surprised him by smiling at him and throwing her arms around his neck. She sniffed and swiped at the corners of her eyes.

"It's perfect," she whispered to him and proceeded to give him quite the most delightful snog he had experienced in quite some time, since breakfast, in fact. Harry was not one to pass up, or question, a good snog, and wrapped his arms around her waist as he got into the spirit of things by coaxing her tongue back into his own mouth and sliding one hand up into her hair. He had no idea what had been perfect before the kiss but he was pretty sure that _now_, it was this moment.

Ginny eventually pulled away and looked up at him, the parchment forms clutched in her hand behind his head, rustled in the slight breeze and her eyes shone, lips swollen. Harry smiled. She beamed back. Smoothing her hair and tugging lightly on the ends Harry said,

"What's perfect?"

"Her name," breathed Ginny. "You thought of the most perfect name!" Harry frowned.

"I did?" Ginny nodded enthusiastically.

"We're going to name her after Tonks!"

"You want to call her Tonks?" Harry asked somewhat suspiciously. It seemed about as appropriate as calling a vicious three headed dog Fluffy. Ginny shook her head impatiently.

"No, we're going to call her Dora!" she exclaimed, "Dora the dog!"

"She's a Creeler," corrected Harry automatically. Ginny waved her hand impatiently behind his head and the parchment she was holding rustled against his head in a rather annoying fashion.

"Details, details," she proclaimed as she untangled herself from his embrace and grabbed his hand, dragging him into the Post Office where they were stopped abruptly by a rather annoyed looking wizard in a most unbecoming pointed hat.

"You young people today have absolutely no propriety!" he said, waving his finger at them in what he obviously thought was a menacing fashion before stalking out the door.

"Oh don't worry about old Vernon," came a bright voice from the rear of the Post Office. "I swear he's been grumpy since the day he was born!" Harry rather thought the name was appropriate and he stuck his head out into the street to watch Vernon stop and berate a small boy who was waving a lollipop carelessly as he skipped along the footpath.

"Cheery fellow," said Harry sarcastically has he drew his head back into the shop and focused on the Postmistress who was sorting parcels and tying them to the legs of some rather interesting birds that rather reminded him of Cocky. She finished her task and came forward to the counter.

"Now, what can I help you two with today?" she said. Her eyes crinkled up at the corners pleasantly when she smiled and her hair was sneakily escaping the bun she had tied it in. She wore a large apron with oversized pockets that bulged with pieces of string.

"We need the quickest way to send this back to London," explained Ginny. The Postmistress rummaged under the counter for a moment and pulled out a rather large envelope.

"Well, your best bet is sending it by Mail Portkey. You could send it by birds but it takes an awful long time and there's always the risk of it getting lost in one of the transfers," as she spoke she opened a drawer and withdrew a roll of Spellotape, a pot of ink and a quill. "It's a bit more expensive mind but a lot quicker. It should be there this time tomorrow." Ginny quickly filled out the paperwork required for a Mail Portkey and the witch behind the counter sealed their permit application in the envelope. Summoning down a Barn Owl she attached the envelope to its leg and sent it to the International Portkey Station at the Airport while Harry counted out the appropriate fee.

"Oh, so beautiful," breathed Ginny. Harry looked up to see a pale pink bird had swooped in bearing a large box and landed on the counter.

"We're not getting a bird, Ginny," he said warily but Ginny just laughed.

"What sort of bird is it?" she asked the Postmistress. "It looks a bit like Cocky."

"Well that's because it is a cocky!" laughed the Postmistress, untying the parcel from its leg and letting the cocky fly up to a perch above the window where Harry could see a collection of similar birds in different hues ranging from majestic black with a red tail, through to grey and yellow and the impressive white they had seen before. The pink bird seemed to lord it over them all in splendor despite the fact that after taking a long drink it tucked its head under its wing and went to sleep.

"But you just used an owl," said Ginny in confusion. "Why was that bird bringing mail?" The Postmistress finished tying the large parcel to a large owl which took off through a specially designed hole in the roof before answering.

"Well, most of the Australian owls are endangered," she explained simply. "There's a decent amount of Barn Owls and Boobooks and a few others but there's just not that many owls really. Occasionally you get a few Rurus, New Zealand Boobooks they are, hanging about as well on the East coast like here but basically the Barn Owl's just not as adapted to the climates as Cockatoos.

"Galahs are completely useless of course, dozy birds, and Corellas are just too small to carry anything much but they are earnest little things, some folks like 'em. There's just too many climates here and no one bird suitable to fly them all. Those Major Mitchell's are suited to the Western Deserts," she stopped and indicated the magnificent pink bird that had flown in earlier. "So if you're wanting to send something to or from there you use a Major Mitchell for that bit. You can get those white ones – Sulphur Crested they are, to go up north or along the east coast. Your Black ones will go south west and your grey down south, really very easy once you get the hang of it. Owls and Boobooks you can use for shorter trips but they get a bit disoriented if you try and get 'em to fly across too much desert."

"Goodness," said Ginny in wonder, "the distances sure do make things tricky around here."

"Bit of a nasty shock for some people," nodded the Postmistress. "You can't just expect to be in the next city by lunchtime. It can take days to get to the top end if Ernie's having a busy time of it on the bus."

"Days?" Ginny's eyes widened. "How can it take days?"

"It's just that big, love," shrugged the Postmistress as if this were completely normal. "If Ernie's got enough stops and you're the last one to get on, well you could be waiting a while. Always best to bring a packed lunch or two on the bus. Course it never usually takes that long, but most people like to be prepared."

"I hope it doesn't take days to get to wherever it was Hermione said we're going," muttered Harry.

"Oh, you're going on the bus then?"

"Yes," Ginny nodded, "down south somewhere, tomorrow."

"Best take a lunch then," said the Postmistress nodding sagely. "Mondays is when the chess club all gets on. Got a standing booking they have, every Sunday they get on the bus and come here to play chess and every Monday off they go home. Ernie sometimes complains it takes him all day to take the chess club home never mind the rest of the passengers." Harry thought that being trapped on a bus with an entire chess club was not the most promising thing he'd ever heard of.

"Ron should appreciate that then," Ginny mused as they left the post office. "I wonder how long it will take though." Harry just shrugged.

They continued their lazy stroll down Origin Alley, buying Kiwi flavoured ice cream at a small stall next to a barber and browsing an extensive bookstore. The sign in the apothecary window proclaimed that it would sell Billywigs only to persons of age and they both spent quite some time fossicking in the Sports Supply store and exploring the AQL teams and specialised Quidditch gear for the Australian climates. They picked up a book on Australian Quidditch for Ron, a rather fancy quill for Hermione and something called a mystery box for George from a joke and costume shop, hoping that it would do something interesting that would enable them to take the mickey out of him.

They kept to no timetable, stopping for lunch only when Ginny's stomach rumbled loudly causing her to blush in embarrassment and Harry to double over with laughter. Harry watched carefully as Ginny pressed her nose to a jeweller's window and pointed out a rather ornate glittering necklace she thought her mother would love and then studied the delicate chains and small glittering pendants, exclaiming over several that featured a small stone that flashed with many different colours. Ginny did not attempt to enter this store either and Harry, deciding that he stood no chance of buying her a surprise birthday gift today, did not enter either but he had guessed correctly about her jewellery preferences. He smiled to himself as they moved away from the jewelry store arm in arm, towards a window filled mannequins dressed in a variety of dress and every day robes.

The shadows lengthened and it grew colder as they huddled together, walking back towards the hotel and Harry looked up into the fading blue sky and thought how it had been a wonderful day and how much he had learned just by being with Ginny on a peaceful day filled with sunshine and her smile. They'd done simple things together, bought gifts for family and friends, sent mail and sampled food; they'd even bought themselves a pet. It was the sort of peaceful future he'd dreamed of with Ginny and he smiled softly to himself as he hugged her closer and decided that if he dared to dream them, then perhaps his dreams really would come true.


	19. Chapter 19

**Where Clouds are Far Behind Me**

"Oh she's so adorable! I always thought you'd get a cat! Just look at those sweet eyes." Harry had never before heard Hermione sound so incredibly soppy. He made a face at Ron over the girls' heads as they pored over the photo of Dora while waiting for Bill, Fleur and George to join them as they got ready to leave the next morning.

"Mum's going to go nuts when you bring that thing home," warned Ron ominously.

"Mum will know before we get home. Kingsley has to sign the paperwork, so we sent it to Percy," explained Ginny loftily. "So she has plenty of time to get used to it."

"You can't go around bringing home strays all the time!"

"Aw go on little brother, mum loves strays," said Bill's voice as he sauntered up behind them with Fleur. "She let Percy keep his stupid rat."

"More's the pity," muttered Harry.

"Dora is _not_ a stray, Ronald!" said Ginny glaring at him. "Anyway, you and the twins brought home a whole new _person_! She let you keep _him_!"

"Hey! I am not a stray!" Harry's protest went unheeded.

"Oh please, tell me you wouldn't have picked him up at the train station yourself, given half the chance?" said Ron, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"I am right here!" said Harry forcefully.

"Besides, we brought home a useful one," said Ron facetiously and he leaned over and ruffled Harry's hair. "Our stray degomes the garden and saves the world. What is yours going to do? Dig up the herb garden I expect!" Harry growled at Ron as he tried to flatten his hair.

"Well at least she's not an over excitable fluff ball like Pig!"

"She is a bit over excitable Ginny," started Harry.

"Who's side are you on?" she turned on him unexpectedly. Harry made a show of leaning over to kiss her and nuzzle her neck to prove just exactly who's side he was on.

"Exactly what are you planning on bringing home, Ginny?" intercepted Bill. Ginny handed him the photograph.

"We bought Dora yesterday."

"Oh look at 'er adorable eyes!" squealed Fleur.

"It's just a dog," said Bill with amusement.

"No, zis ees an adorable babee!" insisted Fleur.

"Now bringing home _that_ would give mum kittens!" said Ron, pointing a finger at Ginny.

"Ha! I think she'd get over it pretty quick if I did bring home a baby, thanks to your excellent judgment in strays," said Ginny, grinning. Ron looked at her in horror; Harry just shook his head resignedly.

"Did you really buy her a dog, Harry?" asked Bill as he handed Ginny back her photograph. Harry looked at Bill curiously and shook his head.

"No, _Ginny_ bought a dog," he paused, "Creeler actually. Hey, Ginny, do you think we could teach her to round up the garden gnomes?" Ginny considered that for a moment before declaring that she was going to try that very thing as soon as they got home. Bill looked at Harry shrewdly but Harry didn't notice, concerned more at that moment with George.

"Where is George?" Harry asked, twisting to look up the stairs. "He _is_ coming right? He didn't find some girl last night that he prefers over us?"

"I don't know how any girl could prefer anyone over you," said a low voice from the corner. It was soft and husky and, quite frankly, scary. Harry started and spun around. Ashley's brunette friend was standing about three feet away, a predatory gleam in her eye. She stepped forward and if you had asked Harry at that moment he would have told you he was being hunted like prey. The brunette was at least a head taller than him and she was wearing heels. Harry felt miniscule at that moment and began looking wildly around for escape. Evil wand-bearing wizards he could deal with. But this – this was something else!

As the girl advanced on him Harry realised that Hermione, Ron and Ginny had all abandoned him. The three of them were huddled together, leaning on each other for support as they laughed at the horror struck look on his face. Harry scowled at them; they were going to pay for that.

"I'm absolutely positive that the newspapers simply haven't got a clue this time," said the brunette with the husky voice, unfurling a paper and dangling it in front of Harry. If she thought that this would have the same effect as dangling a carrot before a rabbit she was sorely mistaken, Harry merely took another step backwards, and slightly to the side, as he tried to put himself in range of Ron so he could cuff him over the head. It was Bill who came to his rescue. Smoothly inserting himself between Harry and the witch he smiled his most charming smile at her. Swiftly plucking the newspaper from her grasp he offered her his other hand to shake.

"Bill Weasley, pleasure to meet you," he said smoothly, "and you are?"

"Jessica," said the girl, "pleased to meet you." In Harry's opinion she did not sound pleased at all. With Bill's interference Harry managed to sidle away and place himself behind the three people he now referred to as traitors. Hermione leaned over and snagged the newspaper from Bill as he waved it behind his back at them. While Hermione straightened the paper out and began scanning the front page Bill took Jessica by the arm and led her over to the brasserie where they had eaten breakfast two mornings ago. He deftly deposited her in there, extolling the virtues of the scrambled eggs and handing her over to the care of the waiter in the doorway. Bill came back, a glaring Jessica staring holes through the back of his head as she was ruthlessly led away by the waiter. Harry sighed with relief.

"Thanks Bill," he said gratefully before turning to the traitors. "Gee, could you lot be any more helpful?" Ginny was still doubled over with laughter and Hermione was engrossed in the paper so it was only Ron who shrugged, smirking at him. Harry reached out and punched Ron on the shoulder.

"Oh, goodness," squeaked Hermione suddenly. Harry didn't really want to know but a strange force compelled him to look. Harry and Ginny had seen a few suspicious looking characters the previous day, people who were being trailed by Quick Quotes Quills weren't exactly inconspicuous, but none had tried to interfere in their day. Harry wondered what story anyone could possibly make out of him and Ginny wandering around Origin Alley all day.

Apparently if they got in touch with Rita Skeeter and then took a picture of him and Ginny clinched together in the middle of Origin Alley, they could make up all sorts of things.

"If that's what you two like to get up to, I'm glad I wasn't around yesterday," muttered Ron. Harry slugged him in the shoulder again.

"This is outrageous!" said Hermione. "Who writes this sort of claptrap?" Harry skimmed the article written under the full colour picture of himself and Ginny kissing in the middle of Origin Alley the day before.

_MISS GRANGER HEARTBROKEN! HARRY POTTER TAKES ADVANTAGE OF BENEFACTOR'S DAUGHTER?_

_If our sources are to be believed, and they are, the floozy in the above picture is none other than a Miss Weasley, youngest child and only daughter of the family who took Mr Potter in when he found himself homeless following the war in Britain which he singlehandedly put a stop to mere months ago. It is possible that this young woman has been offered to Mr Potter as a reward of sorts. However, according to our sources in Britain (because we have been quite unable to actually capture her face), Weasley is considered to be quite good looking and Mr Potter would not be the first war hero to enjoy the spoils of war._

_There is debate in British wizarding circles about whether Weasley has been offered to Mr Potter by her destitute parents, who surely stand to make good money with a suitable match, or if she has simply been seduced by the heroic visage of wizarding Britain's most eligible bachelor and endeavoured to trap him. It has been acknowledged that Harry Potter could have any witch of his choosing and there are those who do not believe that he would choose Weasley willingly. _

"_I'm telling you she [Weasely] is an expert at Love Potions," says Weasely's Hogwarts classmate Miss Romilda Vane. "Her best friend is Hermione Granger, the brightest witch at school. She could have taught her easily enough." Has Miss Granger lost her true love by her own hand? Has Mr Potter been bewitched? However if she is as good looking as they say perhaps Mr Potter simply prefers her to the rather plain Miss Granger. One wonders what sparks might fly when Miss Granger learns of her friend's betrayal, if indeed it is a betrayal on her part._

_Perhaps the betrayal is Mr Potter's. If Harry Potter could have any woman he chooses, could he in fact be taking advantage of his status to bed whoever takes his fancy? Another possibility is that Mr Potter simply feels a debt to the Weasely family. Our source spoke to Mr Potter's classmate Mr Neville Longbottom._

"_Well, Ginny [Weasley] did have a crush on Harry," he says. "They're like his family, the Weasleys, they look after him. He'd do anything for them." Have her parents successfully negotiated a desirable match for their daughter or is our young hero simply doing his foster family a service and giving their daughter what she has sought all these years in repayment for their kindness?_

_Only time will tell but for now the question remains, has Harry Potter abandoned his child and its mother in favour of a clearly unsustainable relationship based on lies and love potions?_

"This is just … Harry! You have _got_ to do something about this!" said Hermione forcefully as she waved the paper in his face.

"What exactly do you propose I do, Hermione?" said Harry exasperatedly. "The only successful interaction I ever had with the press was arranged by _you_, so why don't you do something!" Harry and Hermione began to bicker, loudly, collecting their fair share of stares as people moved through the foyer of the hotel. Neither heard Ginny mutter that she was going to fetch George, nor did they notice when she moved softly up the stairs. Harry began to tune out as Hermione got into her stride. She began pacing and waving her arms about, stopping intermittently to waggle a finger in his face. Running out of steam, Harry tried desperately to keep a straight face as Hermione began to list the creative ways in which she would make Romilda Vane sorry she'd ever learned to talk. As Hermione began to wind down he forced himself to stop looking at Ron, who was pulling faces at him behind Hermione's back, and pay attention to her.

"- you have got to deal with it, Harry!"

"Yes Hermione."

"This can't go on."

"No Hermione."

"The record really needs to be set straight!"

"Yes Hermione."

"So, what are you going to do about it?" Hermione turned on him suddenly, forcefully. Harry shrugged.

"I don't know," he confessed. "Can you think of something? Please? I'll be your best friend?" He gave her his best puppy dog look and she laughed.

"I'm already your best friend," she said with a smile.

"That's it!" exclaimed Ron suddenly. Hermione whirled to look at him.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. She began nodding. "It might just work, yes. It's perfect!" Ron was smiling and nodding along with her.

"Yeah, see, it's obvious."

"Yes, yes, it just might work! You're brilliant Ron!" said Hermione, beaming at both him and Harry. Ron looked smug but Harry just looked at them in utter confusion.

"So er, you both think it's a great idea then?"

"Of course Harry!"

"Bound to work!"

"It's positively scary that you two can do that," Harry said, shaking his head.

"But don't you think it's a brilliant plan, Harry?" persisted Hermione. Harry had absolutely no idea, because unlike them, he had no idea what the plan was. He just nodded. If there were any people in the world he could trust they were Ron and Hermione. If they had a plan he'd go along with it. He contemplated that it was somewhat a turn of events; they often went along with what he said. It was sort of comforting to go along with someone else's idea for a change. He smiled and turned to Ginny. She wasn't there.

Scanning the foyer in confusion he was unable to locate her and his heart sank. Was she upset that he'd turned to Ron and Hermione? Was she embarrassed about the article, or angry perhaps? Well, he reasoned with himself, she _had _been laughing at his predicament with the predatory Jessica, so maybe it served her right. He dismissed that idea as soon as it came. She definitely didn't deserve any of this. Harry had gotten relatively used to the press by now and Hermione seemed to take it in her stride. Ron was lucky enough to rarely be mentioned but Ginny had never before been the subject of such speculation, rumour and innuendo. Harry sighed heavily, running his hand through his hair, unable to locate her. Bill and Fleur were reading the article and Fleur was tutting in one of the best imitations of her mother in law that Harry had ever seen.

"'Oo do zey zink zey are, zees reporters?" she questioned the air angrily. "Zey cannot call 'er a floozy! Zis ees not right! 'Arry!" Harry jumped. Fleur was glaring at him menacingly and waved the paper in his face much like Hermione had done.

"You weel fix zis!" she snarled at him. Harry just looked at her in alarm. Bill put a calming hand on her arm and spoke softly in her ear and her face softened. Suddenly she threw herself at him. "Oh of course eet ees not your fault!" Harry's head was fairly spinning now and his anxiety over Ginny was increasing.

"Where's Ginny?" he asked. Hermione looked up from the Galleon in her hand and Ron shrugged.

"I can't keep track of her, Harry, that's your job," he said. Harry just glowered at him.

"Don't talk about her like that," he growled. "She's not a _pet_ or something to be tracked and catalogued!" Ron backed up several steps, raising his hands in surrender. Harry realised he had his wand in his hand and had begun to raise it. He dropped his hand and sighed. Surrendering to his frustration he kicked a nearby rubbish bin.

"You okay mate?" asked Ron softly. Harry put his wand away.

"Yeah, sorry Ron," he said softly. "It's not fair. That article is terrible and Ginny doesn't deserve this. It's says simply awful things about her and all of you. And what was Neville thinking?"

"I don't expect he was quoted accurately Harry," said Hermione as she briskly tapped her DA Galleon and pocketed it. "Now Neville and Luna should get that message soon enough. I do hope Dennis has his on him. Dean will be easy enough for Luna to contact if he hasn't got his on him, do you suppose Neville will be able to track down Seamus easily enough?"

"What are you on about Hermione?" asked Harry exasperatedly.

"He'll tell Parvati anyway, won't he?" interrupted Ron.

"Yes and hopefully they can get it issued today," added Hermione.

"Tell me what on earth is going on!" roared Harry. Ron looked at him in alarm.

"Calm down Harry, it's the plan!"

"Well if I knew what the plan _was_ maybe I would be calm!" cried Harry in sheer frustration. "You two are talking in secret lovers' code and Ginny has vanished! You expect me to keep_ calm_?" Hermione blushed violently and the tips of Ron's ears went red.

"I just used the DA Galleon to contact Luna and Neville," explained Hermione as the blush began to fade. "Luna is going to publish an article about you and your friends. An accurate one, illustrated with photos that Colin has taken. They will talk to your friends and present an accurate picture of things."

"Yeah and mum and dad," added Ron. "If they've caught even a whiff of this, they'll be furious." Harry let out a deep breath that he didn't realise he'd been holding.

"Thanks," he said softly. Hermione smiled at him and Ron slugged him on the shoulder. Harry feigned grievous injury, staggering slightly and grinning. He sobered suddenly. "Where did Ginny go?" He was answered by a groan from behind. George was holding one hand to his head, shuffling across the foyer. Ginny was trailing him, dragging his bag.

"I can't wait until I am of age," she huffed as she threw the bag at George's feet. "Next time you get roaring drunk and have a hangover you can carry, or levitate, since _you_ are of age, your own blasted bag!"

"Ginny, stop shouting," whined George. "You promised you'd stop doing that." Ginny crossed her arms and glared at him.

"Serves you right!" she growled. George raised an eyebrow and looked from Bill to Harry.

"What's up her nose?" George asked them and Ginny shrieked wordlessly at him, a sound that pierced Harry's skull even though he wasn't hungover. No wonder George began whimpering.

"Harry, call her off," he said, most unwisely, and he found himself on the wrong end of a bat bogey hex.

"Don't treat me like an object or a –a pet!" she spat, advancing on him. Bill swiftly put himself between Ginny and George and demanded that she remove the hex on George. Unwilling, or perhaps unable to defy Bill, Ginny complied.

"I know you're angry Gin, I am too, but turning on George is not the answer," said Bill softly. "Please, put your wand away." Ginny stood rigid, her wand still dangling at her side, eyes hard and glittering.

"Ginny," murmured Harry. Whatever else he had been going to say to her didn't matter. She turned to him then, the rigid stance gone, the fury dissipating. Harry reached out and pulled her to him and she resisted him for only a split second before allowing Harry to enfold her in his arms. She sighed heavily and Harry kissed the top of her head tenderly.

"I'm sorry, George," she said. George glowered at her but nodded his head briefly and then winced at the movement.

"What were you doing last night?" questioned Bill peering at George, inspecting the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes.

"Drinking with Jonathon," muttered George. Bill shook his head resignedly.

"Don't make a habit of it, hey?" he said softly, putting a hand on George's shoulder. His younger brother looked up at him tremulously.

"It only makes the pain go away for a while," he said quietly. "It's just as bad in the morning."

"Only now you have a hangover to boot," grinned Ron.

"Piss off," said George listlessly. At that moment Jonathon came bounding exuberantly through the front door of the hotel.

"Good morning everybody!" George winced dramatically and Jonathon laughed before thrusting a small bottle at him. "Drink up Georgie boy! You'll feel good enough to hit the frog and toad after a shot of that!" George eyed him warily before drinking the contents of the bottle.

"I hope that's not a reference some new sort of cuisine you intend to introduce me to." George grimaced at the after taste of the potion.

"Nah mate, rhyming slang – frog and toad – road. I'm coming with youse!" said Jonathon cheerily. "On the Roobus, Bert was getting up me last night."

"Bert?" squinted George, looking marginally better and now only holding his head with one hand. "I don't remember Bert?"

"I think you were too plastered mate," said Jonathon cheerfully. "Had a few sheilas interested in you but." George looked at him blearily.

"I did?"

"Yep!" said Jonathon, clearly far too cheerily for George's hangover. "Bert brought some very nice looking sheilas along and they were _very_ interested in you mate!" George looked at him askance.

"What – um … where – oh bollocks!" said George. Ron stifled a snigger and Hermione looked at him disapprovingly.

"Don't worry, nothing too drastic," laughed Jonathon. "I packed you off back here before you got in more than a good pash with Amy. Lovely girl, that …" He trailed off clearly lost in a very nice memory involving the lovely Amy.

"I seem to remember you were wrapped around a girl actually," said George looking thoughtfully at him. "It's a pretty vague memory though. I wish I could remember more about what I got up to." Jonathon looked strained.

"Ah, that weren't nothing, she's not, well, she don't think of me like that," he said a little wistfully. "Both had a few too many pots and got a bit carried away. I remember enough that you didn't embarrass yourself mate, don't worry."

"Oh I'm not worried," said George cheekily, his hangover clearly gone. "It's just a travesty I can't remember what was clearly such a lovely snog. So why are you coming along today?"

"Apparently I don't spend enough time with Bert and Ernie, my bestest friends in the whole wide world," here Jonathon began waving his arms erratically as if emphasising the entire world, "and if I don't spend some _quality time_ with Bert today I'm getting my backside booted from here to Sunday. Accordin' to Bert hanging out with Ernie just ain't the same, so I'm on the Roobus today. Probably need my help with the whole chess club anyway.

"Be a great way to see the country though. Ernie says youse're the last booking so you'll have to tag along while he does everyone else. It'll be grouse but! Say, have you lot seen the _Oracle_ today? Should be shot, them journos I reckon. Anyone who's seen youse two together would be mad to believe a word of it." He nodded at Ginny who was still wrapped firmly in Harry's arms. Truthfully Harry was afraid to let her go because he was drawing a lot of comfort from simply holding her. He smiled at Jonathon and pulled her subtly closer, running one hand down her back to rest lightly on one hip and perhaps she sensed his feelings because she looked up at him and reached up a hand to stroke his cheek gently, mouthing 'I love you' at him. Unable to resist her, Harry leaned down and kissed her softly before pulling back a little.

"Now that picture would tell the real story," said Ron softly. Harry ignored him, lost as he was in the depths of Ginny's eyes. It was like he could speak to her this way, it made the touch of her hand on his cheek more real and the rest of the world fade away. In her eyes he could see how much she loved him, how much she had always loved him and he could see, on the edges, the anger and embarrassment the article had caused her. He wanted desperately to take away that pain and wondered if he willed it long enough or loved her hard enough if that would do it.

"I love you," he whispered to Ginny just before a glaring flash went off. Startled, they both turned to see Hermione looking at them apologetically.

"Sorry," she murmured, "but that's the perfect picture and they do say a picture is worth a thousand words." Harry smiled at Hermione before looking back down at Ginny.

"They've got a plan," he said. "I'm sorry that was printed that about you. I wish I knew how to make it go away, but Hermione's contacted Luna. They've got some crazy plan involving her and Neville and Dean." Harry shrugged while Ginny looked sceptically at Ron.

"And you trust these two?" she asked. Harry nodded while Ginny eyed Ron who was absently scratching his head while Hermione lectured him about correctly packing her camera back in the case.

"I trust these two with my life, Ginny."

"Her, I get, it's the fact that you trust him that makes me question your sanity." Harry laughed, watching Ginny's eyes sparkle with mischief, the pain in them nearly gone. Harry made it his mission to eliminate all traces by the end of the day.

"Come on! Bert and Ernie'll be here any minute and I do NOT need to be on Bert's bad side right now thanks very much," said Jonathon impatiently. The rest grabbed their bags and followed him out onto the footpath.

"Don't we have to summon it?' asked Harry curiously as Jonathon just stood there.

"Nah, Roobus turns up on timetable if you booked it," he said. "Might get summoned a few times today I suppose. Most people know to book it if you want it to arrive within coo-ee of the time of the time you need it." Sure enough, within moments an enormous electric blue bus arrived with a BANG and jerked to a stop in front of them. A slight girl with dark hair and piercing blue eyes leapt down from the back end of the bus that Harry now saw looked almost identical to the Knight Bus, apart from its colour. The girl raced up to Jonathon and threw her arms around his neck.

"I thought you were joshing about being here today!" she shrieked in his ear. "You're coming?"

"Yeah, I am," said Jonathon hugging her back. "Did'ya honestly think I was pullin' ya leg? Stone the flamin' crows you're a daft one, Bert!" At that moment the front door to the bus blew open and a dark curly head poked out.

"Stop molestin' him _Alberta_," said the young man with the badge that proclaimed him as Ernie. "It's not like you haven't seen him in yonks! You went 'round last night!"

"Don't call me that!" hissed Bert. "You know I hate that."

"Yeah an' I know how you think any minute away from Johno is torture," muttered Ernie, not loud enough for Jonathon, helping Bill and George load luggage, to hear.

"Don't call him Johno," sighed Bert. "You know he hates it."

"Mebee if you would just take him to bed you'd loosen him up some aye?" said Ernie with a grin showing a set of even, white teeth. Bert blushed heavily and shoved Ernie back into the bus.

"Shut up!" said Bert, clambering up after him. "He doesn't even know I'm alive. Would he have gone out with the incredible face sucking Amy if he knew?" Harry raised an eyebrow at Ginny and she stifled a giggle as they followed Bert's beckoning hand onto the bus.

"Mebee you shoulda thought about that afore you went and tried to make him jealous with Griffin," said Ernie settling into the driver's seat, which was a deck chair, "pompous ass."

"Remind you of anyone?" Ginny muttered. Harry completely lost it then and Ron had to shove him unceremoniously up the steps of the bus.

"What's so funny?" he asked plaintively as Harry collapsed in a laughing heap in the aisle. "Move over Harry, I want to get a seat!" The inside of the Roobus was furnished with an assortment of deck chairs, squashy arm chairs and recliners, a circular staircase stood in one back corner. There was a muted murmur of voices coming from the floors above them but the ground floor was empty of passengers.

Ron eventually pushed Harry's head down and stepped over him, claiming a recliner in the middle of the bus. George, Bill and Jonathon clambered into the bus through the back and flopped into deck chairs near the back. Hermione and Fleur went to find seats while Ginny fixed up their fare with Bert after liberating Harry's pocket of his money bag. Returning to Harry she hauled him upright now that he had almost ceased his laughter and pushed him into a recliner a few seats away from Ron. Harry watched Hermione settle herself in Ron's lap and sobered as he saw Ron smile up at her and reach out to smooth her hair, whispering something that made Hermione smile back. She tucked an arm around him and snuggled her head under his chin. Ron put a hand on her thigh and began stroking it softly while he kissed the back of her neck. Harry didn't realise it but he was wearing the same expression that people often saw on Ron when he watched Harry with his sister.

"What are you thinking?" asked Ginny softly from the chair beside him. Harry turned to Ginny and snaked out a hand to pull her onto his lap.

"Wondering if Hermione knows how much Ron loves her," said Harry quietly, unable to resist burying his face in Ginny's hair and running a hand down the length of her thigh. Ginny turned to look at them. Hermione had turned her face up to Ron who was holding the back of her head with one hand and was peppering her face with little kisses while his other hand ran up her leg, over her hip and up under her jumper.

"I think she has a pretty good idea," answered Ginny as Ron stopped teasing Hermione and covered her mouth with his. Hermione's eyes fluttered shut and her hand reached up to rest on Ron's chest as the two kissed, heedless of the audience around them. Harry smiled.

***************************

The Roobus sped across the continent stopping abruptly to let off members of the chess club and picking up an assortment of witches and wizards who seemed to know Bert and Ernie quite well. A number were obviously familiar with Jonathon also. They headed north, picking up the Flidge maintenance wizard at Wollemi, who complained that he'd only just finished cleaning the Flidges after Saturday's game and he'd have to go back on Wednesday to make sure they were all open and working for the Friday night Thunderer – Nargun game, which the Narguns were, for the first time ever, tipped to win. Harry wondered aloud why he wasn't Flidging home and Bert chuckled loudly.

"Can't handle Flidging," she said, "makes him terribly sick!"

The first of the chess club players was dropped off at a poky little town in the middle of nowhere and Jonathon pointed out some of the local landmarks in the distance before the Roobus suddenly shot off again. They got a glimpse of the beach at Tweed Heads where a rather gloomy looking wizard carrying an enormous chess set disembarked and scurried off into the sand dunes. At Toowoomba, in Queensland, they picked up a rather shifty looking wizard who Ernie loudly warned not to cause any trouble or he'd throw him off in the middle of nowhere.

"Quite capable of doing that too," muttered Jonathon as the shifty wizard skulked up the stairs at the rear. "There's miles and miles of desert out there you'd not see anyone for days if Ernie took a mind to it."

An assortment of scantily clad witches got on and off the bus in Rockhampton and Townsville before they left two elderly members of the chess club at a street in a small town that looked to be surrounded by sugar cane and banana plantations. As they headed west Jonathon made Ernie stop the bus so they could look at the rainforests and Hermione took their picture in front of a stunning waterfall. By the time they arrived in Darwin and offloaded several passengers it was time for morning tea. Harry got off the bus with the rest to stretch his legs.

"Here, I thought it was bloody winter mate!" exclaimed Ron as they stepped into what might reasonably be considered sweltering heat. Jonathon laughed as Ron stripped off his jumper.

"Youse're in Darwin mate. They don't know the meaning of the word cold!" Harry idly thought that the Postmistress had not been joking about the different climates in Australia. Jonathon continued, "Now, Melbourne, they know the meaning of the word cold. Hey Ern! Are we going to Melbourne today?" Ernie looked thoughtful for a moment before he nodded. Jonathon looked satisfied.

"There, that'll learn youse what cold is," he said smugly. Ron shook his head at Jonathon.

"Mate, you're talking to people who went to school in a drafty castle in Scotland," he said. "You have no idea what cold is."

"'Ogwarts ees 'orrible and cold," shuddered Fleur. "But zees 'umidity, eet is not much better. My 'air, eet weel go leemp." She flounced back into the bus and Ginny pulled a face behind her retreating back. They spent a few moments sunning themselves before Ernie herded them back onto the bus.

They had just dropped Mrs Somersby and six large cats off in the Bungle Bungles in the far north when a loud and wailing klaxon sounded throughout the bus.

"What the bloody hell was that?" demanded Ron when it stopped.

"Summoning alarm," said Ernie shortly and he began winding a handle just above his head.

"Hold on!" bellowed Bert as the bus suddenly lurched magnificently, shuddered and came to a stop with a huge bang in front of a old building in what was clearly a sea port. Harry was flung out of his chair and hit the side of the bus with a thud and as soon as the bus stopped quivering Ginny and Hermione has rushed to his aid.

"Harry, are you okay?" asked Hermione anxiously as Harry lay still, a pain thumping in his head. Harry opened his eyes, squinting in the bright light and groaned.

"Are you all right mate?" said Bert frantically as she leaned over Harry. "Old Mr Walpole … always summoning the bus in an emergency. One of these days it will be an emergency I suppose. Can you move?" Harry experimented and found, to his own surprise, that he could actually sit upright. Ginny was looking at him, worry etched on her features and he smiled at her.

"I'm okay," he said, "takes more than a bus ride to do me in." He grinned at her but to his consternation Ginny burst into tears. With a speed he did not know he had, he had her in his arms and was whispering softly in her ear.

"Ginny, it's all right, we're all okay. I just lost my grip." Ginny sniffed loudly and with great effort pulled herself together. She didn't say anything but curled herself into his lap. Harry shared a puzzled look with Ron before gingerly getting to his feet and sitting back in his chair. Ginny curled up in his lap once more. Once Bert and Ernie had established that Harry was fine and apologised profusely for the mishap the Roobus was on its way again. Mr Walpole's 'emergency' had seen them fly across the country to Fremantle and now they were on their way to Adelaide before they went Outback. Harry idly listened to Jonathon tell Bill about Adelaide as they travelled across a vast expanse of desert.

"Pretty little place really, not much life in it but," Jonathon mused. "They got heaps of wineries down there. Coupla good beaches, little bit of shopping but, yeah, bit quiet. I'm a city boy meself and South Australia's not much but Adelaide and a heap of desert."

"I'm used to the desert," said Bill a trifle wistfully. "I used to work in Eygpt."

"There's a few chess clubbers who live in the desert," Bert said idly. "We'll drop 'em off after lunch in Adelaide and youse can 'ave a squizz at the sandy stuff."

"Don't take too long about it," Ernie grumbled. "Mr Walpole has already put us behind schedule." Bert pulled a face at the back of Ernie's head and Jonathon chuckled at her.

Harry shifted his attention to Ginny then. She was still curled up in his lap, her hands grasping his shirt and her head tucked under his chin. Harry wondered if she was asleep, she had been so still and quiet. Harry met Ron's eyes over the top of Ginny's head. Ron was looking sadly at his sister and offered Harry a weak smile.

"Ginny?" Harry whispered. The only answer he got was her right hand tightening imperceptibly around the chunk of his shirt that she was holding as her body began to tremble slightly. Harry began to softly stroke her hair and then down her back before running his hand along her arms. Something had spooked her and Harry would give anything to know what it was.

As he stroked her tenderly he felt Ginny relax and he twisted his head to try and see her face. Her eyes were closed and there were slight frown lines on her forehead. Raising a hand gently Harry smoothed them away and pulled her face up to press a kiss to her forehead. He felt her shiver as he trailed a hand down the side of her face and neck and prayed that it was a shiver of delight and not one of dread. He was rewarded when Ginny opened her eyes and smiled at him. He wanted to question her but he saw some of the pain still in her eyes and, wanting more than anything for it to go away, he kissed her, softly at first and then with growing urgency despite the presence of her brothers.

Ginny released her hold on his shirt and wound her fingers up into his hair while Harry cradled her head in one hand and ran the other along her thigh and over her hip. He wanted to pour all his feelings into that kiss so that she knew how much he cared for her and loved her and so that the pain on the edges of her eyes would go away. Ginny responded enthusiastically to his kiss. Opening her mouth to him she pressed him back into the chair and kissed him until his head was spinning and he was dizzy from lack of oxygen. When she pulled away Ginny laid her head next to his on the back of the chair and Harry looked into her eyes, breathing heavily and willing her to know how much he loved her. As he watched he thought he could see the dark spots that were her pain fade until almost none was left and he smiled.

"Hey Ginny," Harry breathed. "Are you okay now?" Ginny nodded without offering further explanation and they sat in silence until the bus came to a shuddering halt in a wide tree lined street.

It was certainly not warm in Adelaide, a fact which had Ron complaining loudly as he pulled his jumper back over his head. They had come to a stop in the heart of South Australia's capital, but true to form, the Muggles bustling about did not notice the massive electric blue bus sitting outside their train station. The trees were overpowered by the multi-storied buildings behind them and their bare branches left the street looking rather bleak, the grey of the buildings blending with the colour of the skies above them. There was a food van parked in front of them and Harry could hear the distant rattle of trains as they pulled out of the station behind it. The remaining passengers on the bus clattered down the staircase.

"Hey Ern, you ever gonna pick a different lunch spot?" grumbled a hunchbacked old wizard in purple robes.

"Nah, I'm not," said Ernie.

"There's nothing wrong with a good pie floater now and again. Go find a sandwich shop if you're not happy, you lazy bugger," interjected Bert. The old wizard kept grumbling as he exited the bus. Harry followed him off the bus, Ginny clinging tightly to his hand. He squeezed her hand reassuringly and asked if she was okay. Ginny nodded firmly but Harry could not shake the feeling that she had been unreasonably upset when he had hit the side of the bus but he could not quite place his finger on why. He felt like he should know but the reason was elusive. He shrugged mentally, it's not like he was hurt, the bump had been minor and if they kept dwelling on it they'd not have any fun. He smiled at Ginny warmly and they trailed Ron to the food van.

The food van in front of them turned out to be a pie cart. It looked closed so Harry was unsure how they were supposed to get lunch there. One of the witches from the Roobus had seated herself on the footpath and opened her packed sandwich but the other occupants were clustered around the van. Ernie reached out and tapped on the shutter and it suddenly rose up with a loud clatter. A young, spotty wizard peered out at them.

"About time Ern!" he said. "I were about to give up on ya and go home!"

"Yer full of it," said Ernie shortly, "now give us our lunch afore the Muggles start noticin'!"

Lunch turned out to be a selection of savoury pastries including a rather odd looking combination of meat pie, smothered in tomato sauce, sitting in green pea soup that Ernie dug into with relish. The sickly green combined with pastry and bright red tomato sauce was something that not even Ron was sure was a good idea. He wasn't one to pass up a challenge however and when Jonathon called him a wuss for not giving it a go Ron tried it. Harry chose a less threatening looking pasty and Ginny a pie without the green bits. Fleur looked ill at the thought of any of it but gamely attempted a pie, having had one at the Quidditch. No one was sad to board the bus again however as standing on a freezing street eating baked pastry goods from paper bags wasn't exactly pleasant. Ernie was the only one who seemed to have any real enthusiasm for the idea.

As the bus rumbled north Harry noticed Bert watching Jonathon as he and George conversed quietly in one corner of the bus. Harry hadn't been friends with Ron and Hermione for seven years without picking up a few things and he could tell that Jonathon was as taken with Bert as she obviously was with him. Jonathon watched her when he thought no one was looking and whenever she got up to assist a passenger off the bus his eyes followed her curves up the staircase. No doubt he was also taking the opportunity to catch as much of her legs as possible, which wasn't difficult as Bert was clad in what was obviously national dress, even for wizards, of shorts and thongs. She had protested vehemently when Ron called them flip-flops and declared that term 'poncy and foreign', demanding that they all refer to them as thongs while they were down under, thank you very much. George had not been amused to learn that what he had been used to calling a thong was in fact almost always called a G-String (although Ernie clearly preferred the term 'butt floss') and, in answer to Jonathon's cheeky inquiry, none of them were likely to find out if Bert was wearing one! As Bert helped old Mrs Weatherstone off the bus at a very pink roadhouse in a place called Oodnadatta, George leaned over to Jonathon.

"If you keep looking at her like that your eyes are going to fall out of your head and then we'll have to pick them up and pull the dust off them," George whispered. "Make a move, man!" Jonathon glared at him.

"Get real! She does _not_ think of me like that," said Jonathon morosely. "I wish."

"Oh stop it!" said Hermione sharply to the surprise of them all. "If she was ogling you any more when you bent over to haul a suitcase off the bus we'd be picking up _her_ eyeballs! You men just try to get out of making a move because you're chicken!"

"Unsure, Hermione, not chicken," ventured Ron. Hermione turned and gave him a scathing look.

"Oh yes Mr Lionheart," she scoffed. "Did you ever even _make_ a move?"

"Yeah, with Lavender," muttered Harry. The tips of Ron's ears were red and he glared at Harry menacingly.

"You can't talk," said Ron fiercely.

"Yes I can," argued Harry. "I kissed a girl before you ever did."

"Unless you count Auntie Muriel," giggled Ginny and Ron threw a threatening glance in her direction and growled. George stood up dramatically.

"Children, children," he proclaimed condescendingly. "Now is not the time for petty bickering. She's coming back, shhhhhhhhh." Bert scrambled back onto the bus and called out to Ernie that they were right to go before sinking into the deckchair next to Jonathon and declaring old Mrs Weatherstone the most verbose person she ever had the misfortune to meet. She crossed her legs and leaned back, stretching and closing her eyes, exposing the skin of her neck and wrists to Jonathon as she did so. He was mesmerised. George began whispering in his ear, Jonathon whispering fiercely back.

"What are you two whispering about like a pair of Nyols?" Bert asked lazily. Jonathon started suddenly.

"Nothing," he said, "never mind." George went to say something else and Jonathon elbowed him.

"Hey," protested George, "I just wanted to know what a Nyol was!" Harry was rather curious himself. It turned out they were tiny little grey creatures with big ears who lived in the rocks. They were a bit elusive but you could tell they were around because you could hear them whispering and rustling. They were pretty strong though so in Jonathon's opinion you wanted to be careful when walking where Nyols were as they grabbed at your ankles.

"They reckon there is some at Coober Pedy, that's the next stop," Bert said, eyes still closed, Jonathon still staring at her legs. "I've never seen any evidence of that though. Hey Ernie?"

"Yeah Bert?"

"We going to Coober Pedy this arvo?"

"Yeah Bert."

"Got time to stop and stretch our legs?"

"Yeah Bert."

"You want desert, Bill," said Jonathon. "Coober Pedy's got desert. Heaps of desert. Come to that Australia's got a lot of desert. Some people think the desert's dead you know, but desert around here don't mean dead at all. Teeming with life our deserts, isn't that right Ernie? Ernie grew up in the deserts, born in Alice Springs. He's a boy from the bush even if I'm not. Hey Ernie, we gunna be in Alice before dinner at this rate?"

"Yeah Johno."

"Don't call me that." Harry grinned. Ernie seemed to be getting more taciturn as they day went on. He rather thought perhaps being friends with Jonathon had rendered Ernie thus.

It was only a few more minutes before they reached Coober Pedy and rolled into a rather dusty red-earthed town. It had few buildings but Bert soon explained that a lot of places were actually underground, dug into the earth in the sides of hills. Once she pointed that out it was easier to see them. Ernie brought the bus to a stop on a street lined with shops and they disembarked into a dry but not unpleasantly hot climate. A nearby window display caught Harry's eye. It was full of jewellery decked with opals, the stones Ginny had admired in the jewellery shop window in Origin Alley the day before. Bert noticed his gaze.

"Opals," she said, "millions of 'em here, opal capital of the world." Harry chanced a glance at Ginny and saw that she and Hermione were engaged in trying to entice Fleur off the bus.

"Hey, do me a favour, keep Ginny occupied," he whispered to Bert. She winked at him conspiratorially and gave him a small salute as he hurried into the jewellery store. His mission was short and sweet and expedited with the utmost speed. He rather thought he'd managed to get away with it until Ginny settled in his lap as they took off again.

"And where did you go, Mr Potter?" she asked slyly. Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? I notice everything about you, Harry." Harry gulped as her hands began to roam. He stopped her as her hands got daringly close to straying below his waist and smiled his most winning smile at her.

"Oh no you don't, Miss Weasley," he said softly, pinning her hands with his own, larger ones. "I know what you are looking for, and you won't find it. Wait until tomorrow, like a good girl." Ginny frowned at him and he kissed it away with soft, delicate kisses that made her melt into him.

"Oi! Get a room!" said George plaintively. "I'm sick of watching you two go at it!"

"Stop watching then," said Ginny tartly.

"But there isn't anything else to watch," complained George. "That landscape's a bit monotonous."

"We're nearly there," said Bert. "Got three chess clubbers to drop off in Alice and then it's just young Arkie going to Melbourne. After that we'll get you lot to Yackandandah. Scenery's a lot more inviting down south."

"Hey Ernie, you gunna swing by Yulara?" called Jonathon. "Be a treat for the Poms hey? Can't bring 'em all the way in this rattler without swinging by the Rock! And your mum is always having a go at you for not visiting her. Keep the old chook happy maybe?"

"It's out of the way," grumbled Ernie shortly.

"Aw go on Ern! Arkie'd go for it, he hates getting off the bus on a Monday night anyway. Always wants to stay and chat," interrupted Bert. "Anyway you promised your mum she'd see more of you once you started driving the bus, not less, and we haven't detoured to Yulara for ages."

"All right," said Ernie shortly and moments later he brought the bus to a shuddering stop in what appeared to be the middle of a dry river bed. It was sandy with smooth round rocks and stones scattered throughout. Trees grew at odd angles along the edges and at one point a massive fallen tree trunk seemed to act as a root system for a line of trees that all stood straight up in a line, growing from the fallen trunk. The last three chess club members disembarked here and Bill looked curiously out at their surroundings.

"Hey, what's with the camels?" he asked Bert. Harry craned his neck to see the train of camels ambling along towards them. About six camels were tied together, people swaying atop of them. They all clambered off the bus to get a better look and their feet sank into the soft sand.

"Thought this was Australia?" said Ron, puzzled. "What're the camels doing here?"

"Ah, ship of the desert, best thing for transporting things in the outback," said Bert. "I rode a camel once. They replaced the camels with trains eventually but camels are a major tourist attraction. By the looks these ones are heading back out along the river to the camel farm for dinner."

"What river?"

"You're in the river mate," said Bert, rolling her eyes. "Todd River. It's not flowing right now. Hardly ever flows. Grouse bit of scenery but." Harry had to admit, it was picturesque and the rolling camels with the people riding gracefully on top were mesmerising. He was shaken out of his trance by Ernie.

"Oi, if ya wanna go to Uluru, get back on the bus," he said grumpily.

"Mate, if you're gunna see ya mum," said Jonathon, "be a bit more cheery aye?"

"She's gunna have words with me," complained Ernie. "First she'll 'ave a go at me for not hangin' around, then she'll have a few things to say about me not usin' me education wisely after all her sacrifice. Then I'll probably get the 'you don' come and see me enough' lecture."

"Well, you don't go and see your old lady enough Ern!" said Bert in frustration. Ernie scowled at her and stomped back onto the bus, grumbling under his breath. The rest of them filed in behind him and Ernie barely let them get seated before the bus took off again, sending up a spray of the riverbed sand and gravel before the bus lurched onto the road again. It wasn't long before Ernie brought the bus to a rapid halt and the occupants of the bus nearly went flying out of their seats.

"He gets a bit reckless when he's grumpy," muttered Bert as she held out a hand to Jonathon to haul him off the floor. Once standing Jonathon held onto her hand for just a moment longer than was necessary and neither seemed to notice that they were standing closer than they needed to. Jonathon bent his head ever so slightly; the two of them seemed to have forgotten that anyone else was there.

"You all right?" asked Jonathon quietly. "Didn't, you know, sustain an injury when the doofus stopped like that?" Bert shook her head slowly.

"You?"

"Nah, I'm fine." Harry dared not move or breathe; this was likely the moment they had been waiting for, probably for years.

"Well let's go if we're goin'!" yelled Ernie from the front of the bus. The spell was broken and Jonathon and Bert hastily dropped hands and Bert turned to Ernie businesslike while Jonathon busied himself studying a pulled thread on his jumper. They filed off the bus onto a dusty, red road, joined by young Arkie (who proved to be anything but young but apparently his father was one hundred and fifty seven so young Arkie's one hundred and two was indeed young).

"Oh, it's beautiful," breathed Hermione, pointing to the large monolith in the distance.

"Ern, why don't you take us up to the Rock and go see your mum? Me and Bert'll show the Poms what it's about," said Bert, she turned to young Arkie. "You wanna come Ark, or you gunna get a drink?" Young Arkie nodded briefly at a nearby building and Bert nodded, promising to pick him up before they left.

"Mum'll be put out if you don' come and visit her," stated Ernie categorically to Jonathon.

"Okay, so you come and pick us up from the Rock in about an hour then, take us back to see your mum," sighed Jonathon. "But you're not getting out of havin' a nice visit with her without us lot nosin' in on it."

"Yeah well I hope cousin Gracie's there when you turn up then," grumbled Ernie as headed back onto the bus. Cousin Gracie turned out to be one of Ernie's many relatives who had taken a particular shine to Jonathon on a previous visit and was rather … enthusiastic.

"I know how you feel," said Harry quietly, not seeing Ginny shoot him a sharp look. "Enthusiastic girls are a bit … wearing."

"Why don't you get yourself a real live girl, then?" asked George pointedly tilting his head imperceptibly towards Bert, who was waving her arms at Uluru and explaining something to Hermione. "What's she going to do if you waltz in with a bird on your arm?" Jonathon glared at him before hissing,

"Don't be so bloody obvious!"

"Don't be so bloody idiotic!" George said.

"Oh he's always idiotic," said Bert smiling. "Come on, let's go."

Standing at the base of the huge red rock Harry felt infinitesimally small. The rough, red walls rose up into the sky stopping abruptly, sharply against the azure sky. From far away you couldn't see that the base of Uluru was surrounded by trees through which birds squawked and invisible skinks and insects rustled and buzzed. The giant red monolith rose up out of the flat plain as if it had been dropped from the sky and colonies of plants and creatures had made their home in the bush that thrived in the watercourses created by the rare rain that ran off the rock and collected at its base. The yellowing grass reached their knees, waving in a silent breeze that rippled through the trees. A red gravelly path wound its way around the rock and a chain leading up to the top was providing purchase for a number of Muggles winding their way up and down a worn path. The atmosphere was still despite the presence of so many tourists and Uluru gave of a feeling of quiet reverence that Harry had not felt before. The immense monument to nature made Harry appreciate the vastness of this continent in a way that could not be conveyed with anything else he had seen to date. The flat plain around them stretched for miles and miles and on the red horizon he could see only distant hills and dunes, fuzzy in the distance and heat haze.

"Ernie's mob don't climb the rock," Jonathon was saying when Harry forced his attention back to their group. "They let the tourists have a go up it if they want but this is a sacred place, y'know? I think it's a truly grouse place, it's one of them places that you can feel is magical if you get my meaning but I 'aint ever gunna climb it. It's just not right I reckon, heaps more to see around the base anyway. Probably can't get around the whole thing in an hour but we can have a go – Ernie'll find us when he gets away from his mum." Entwining his fingers with Ginny's, Harry trailed after Jonathon with the rest of them while Jonathon told them stories that he'd learned from Ernie's uncles.

"I used to come here for part of the summer," Jonathon explained. "After Christmas, me mum'd never let us come for Christmas, but me and Dave used to join him up here and his uncles'd take us out and tell us the stories. It looks fabulous right after it's been raining." He stopped at a bend in the path and beckoned them into a small alcove at the base. A viewing platform was set up overlooking a small pool of water.

"See here, that trail, the water comes down there and fills this pool," Jonathon indicated the water collected on the rocks in front of them. "The Rainbow Serpent, he made this whole thing and there were a coupla other snakes, slithering over the rock, made all them grooves for the water to come down now and that makes the waterhole for the birds and animals. I haven't been out here for ages, forgotten half the story." Jonathon shook his head sadly before staring out over the water as he leaned on one of the railings edging the platform.

"Lucky we have any stories really," said Bert softly, covering one of Jonathon's hands with her own. "You're a good friend, Jonathon. Ernie don't expect you to remember all the stories, but if you came out with us more often, maybe he'd tell them to you more and you'd remember them. You got caught up in the big city life. You don't come out here with us as much as you used to.

"You know Ernie doesn't feel like he fits in sometimes. He feels like you're a bridge between his two worlds. He's luckier than most though. At least his mob is willing to believe in magic and accept it." Bert sighed wistfully then and Jonathon turned to her, reaching out to cup her cheek tenderly. Harry felt the subtext of their conversation flowing round them and stood motionless while Bert closed her eyes and sighed.

"Your dad'll come around," said Jonathon softly. "You can't expect him to get over having his whole house vanished in a fit of teenage pique, and being homeless for three days, very easily." Bert smiled weakly as she opened her eyes to look up at him.

"I didn't mean to do it," she said, staring into Jonathon's eyes. "But Alastair really wasn't as bad as he made out." Jonathon laughed softly.

"If he was your dad's first introduction to a wizard other than the headmaster it's no wonder he went off his trolley about the prospect of his sixteen year old daughter marrying one," he smiled. "You need to introduce him to someone else, someone who's worthy of you. Someone your dad already likes."

"The only one of my magical friends dad really likes is you," said Bert wistfully, looking out across the waterhole, turning her face in the palm of his hand. "So I've got buckley's of that ..." she trailed off as Jonathon brought his other hand up to cup her face and turn it back to him. He lowered his head slowly to hers and breathed,

"No, I'd say that's a real possibility. The chances are inordinately high in fact." Bert stared at him in wonder as Jonathon moved closer and covered her mouth with his, he kissed her softly, cupping her face in his hands and she stood, motionless as if not believing this was real, her hands hanging limply at her sides. Jonathon pulled away, his eyes clouded and he dropped his hands.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'll just-"

"No!" whispered Bert fiercely. "Don't be sorry." And she reached out and pulled his head back down to hers, this time she kissed him and after a few moments of shock Jonathon wound his arms around her waist and kissed her back. No one dared move, or ruin the moment, they all sensed it had been coming for quite some time and Jonathon and Bert kissed in the shadow of the massive rock, in one of the most magical places in the country, for several long minutes. The stillness was broken suddenly by a groan and the two broke apart and all spun around to see Ernie standing on the path shaking his head.

"For the love of Merlin," he said, smiling. "Could you not do that in front of the ancestors." Jonathon blushed deeply but Bert just grinned at him cheekily.

"If I recall correctly it was _your_ idea that I make him mine," she said. "What was it you said I should do? Take him to b-" Ernie leapt forward with surprising agility and covered her mouth with his hand.

"Don' paint the picture Alberta," he shuddered and Bert laughed. She pulled away and slugged him on the arm.

"Don't call me that." Jonathon watched as Ernie tugged on Bert's long hair.

"Let's go," he said, grinning at Jonathon. "Mebee I can get me some peace now she won' be moanin' about you not noticin' her all day?" Jonathon reached out and took Bert's hand in his and she smiled shyly at him looking through her lashes as Jonathon put an arm around Ernie's shoulders and they led the way back to the Roobus.

"Just be careful she don't share too much with you aye?" he said and Ernie shuddered. The three of them wandered up to the bus bickering softly and George looked around at his siblings walking hand in hand with their significant others and shook his head resignedly.

"I really need to find myself a bird. I just don't see young Arkie as my type at all." Ron laughed and pulled George in for a one armed hug just as they reached the bus.

"I'm sure you'll have no trouble once we get back home," he said reassuringly. George looked at him thoughtfully for a few moments.

"D'you think I can get double the women now? Surely something has to work in my favour?" Ron threw back his head and laughed.

"I think Fred would expect it. If the ladies are deprived of him then you really need to step up to the plate!" Hermione pursed her lips but did not say anything about the rather sexist remark because Ron and George were laughing so uproariously that she and Harry had to push them up the steps onto the bus and no one had seen George laugh like that in months.

They sank into their seats and Ernie adjusted his seat and started the bus up. They took off with a bang and landed suddenly, bone jarringly a minute later when the bus seemed to just drop onto the road with a massive thud. Bert sat up from her deck chair suddenly, tearing her hand away from Jonathon's abruptly as she ran up to the front of the bus.

"Whadja do Ern?" she gasped. Ernie shrugged, clambering out of his seat slowly.

"Feels like some of the magic's missin' mebee," he said with a puzzled frown. He hopped down went around to the side of the bus, the rest of them following him. "I told Akrie we'd be back in a minute an' I hope this don' take too long cause we'll never get to Yackandandah at this rate. You two an' yer silly detours." Jonathon and Bert shared a glance over Ernie's head as he bet to undo a clasp before they both leaned down to help him hoist open the panel. They all peered in expectantly.

Harry had no idea what he was looking at, the colourful swirls and whorls of magic moved without meaning in the space exposed by the removed panel but Bert gasped and Jonathon shook his head.

"Damn Pukwudgies!" exploded Bert.

"Bugger," said Ernie.


	20. Chapter 20

**20. Some Day I'll Wish Upon a Star**

**A/N: Well hello again! Thanks for all the contact I have had about this story. Sometimes I remember to reply to reviews and sometimes it takes me a while to get back to you but I do read every single one of them! A few notes about this chapter - the star stuff is all true, I borrowed the bus stuff from St Margarets' NZ Chronicles and Harry and his family and friends from JKR. Bert and Ernie belong to me, along with Jonathon.**

**______________________________________________________________________________**

"I'll kill'em!" exploded Ernie. Jonathon rolled his eyes at him.

"What's a Pukwdgie?" asked Harry tentatively.

"Nasty little thieving buggers, I'm gunna hunt 'em down and I'm gunna kill'em!"

"Calm down Ernie, it's not that bad," said Jonathon.

"You can't just kill something!" exclaimed Hermione, sounding utterly scandalised.

"Your mum don't let you point the bone anyway," muttered Bert before she poked her head into the compartment. "Well, looks like they stole the thought box."

"O' course they stole the thought box _Alberta_," said Ernie. "Ya could see that soon as I opened it."

"Don't call me that," she said absently as she crawled under the bus, her bottom sticking out from under the front wheel arch.

"Thought box?" said George as he poked his head into the compartment where Bert had been moments before. His voice was muffled as he continued. "What's a thought box?" George emerged from the compartment looking no wiser than he had before he'd taken a look at the magical-mechanical compartment. Harry wondered what Bert was looking for, her lower half twisting as she wriggled about under the bus.

"Helps with driving the bus, bit like Apparating the whole thing," said Jonathon absently staring at what little could be seen of Bert. "Ernie thinks and the thought box collects his thoughts and the Roobus goes, simple really."

"Stop staring at 'er ar-" began Ernie but Jonathon elbowed him in the ribs before he finished. Bert's voice rose up from under the bus.

"They chewed through the chassis all right, got themselves into the compartment and stole the thought box from underneath," she called and Ernie growled at her.

"Ya right grumpy out here aren't you? Stop being such a bloody drongo, Ern," she said exasperatedly as she emerged from under the bus.

"What're we gunna do about it?" Ernie scratched his head, staring at the compartment where the thought box had obviously been.

It seemed everyone else had the same idea as they swivelled as one to look at Jonathon. It was obvious that Jonathon was the one with ideas, that he took the leadership role just as it was clear Bert liked action and Ernie was the thinker in their friendship. He posed the questions; waiting for solutions he knew would come.

"Well, we're stuck in the middle of nowhere without a thought box," Jonathon started. "What's close? Mutijulu township or the resort at Yulara?"

"We haven't got a permit for Mutijulu and it's peak tourist season, Yulara's full up," said Bert as she pulled her wand out and advanced on the compartment, still gaping open on the side of the bus.

"Bonza," said Jonathon dryly. "We're stranded in winter in the desert and nowhere to stay with a bus full of Poms who aren't licensed to Apparate!"

"Um, excuse me," said Hermione hesitantly. "Are we going to be stuck here long?" Jonathon raked his hand through his hair but said nothing while Hermione waited for his response.

"Don't forget Arkie," said Bert absently, poking the strands of magic in the exposed compartment with her wand. One of the yellow strands arced and snapped at her hand and she dropped her wand inside, yelping. Jonathon grabbed her hand immediately and swore at the welt growing there.

"You better Apparate to Ernie's mum and get her to fix you up," he said decisively as he levitated her wand out of the compartment and handed it back to her. "She'll have a cocky about won't she?"

"Yeah she's got one to send letters to me and Uncle Mick. I'll go send it to Adelaide for a new thought box," sighed Ernie. "I'll get mum to put Arkie up, she won't mind. And I'll bring back some food."

"Good, I don't fancy huntin' thanks," said Jonathon.

"Plenty lizards out here yer great wuss," mumbled Ernie. Jonathon turned to Hermione.

"Sorry, Hermione," he said. "It looks like we are stuck here for the night." He turned to Bert and Ernie. "Ernie, you reckon your mum can send along some swags and that?" Ernie nodded briefly.

"Why can't we just Apparate to somewhere with beds?" asked George. Harry thought he had an excellent point.

"Even if you were licensed to Apparate here there's nothing close," explained Jonathon. "The risk of Splinching or landing even further into the desert just isn't worth Apparating to a place over three hundred k's away. Accomplished wizards can do it but I wouldn't try it."

"Three hundred k's? How far is that?" asked Ron, sounding quite irritated.

"Not quite two hundred miles," said Hermione quietly.

"Gets harder the further you go," continued Jonathon, "and there's a lot of places out here to get lost in. I'm not a fan of getting Splinched." Ron grunted, a scowl on his face.

"Picked up more than one idiot in an emergency who thought he'd save himself a bus trip and wound up with half an arm missing 'cause he got too disoriented in the sand dunes and forgot his three Ds," added Bert.

"Without the Roobus working there's nothing to rescue us if we manage to get in the same predicament," finished Jonathon.

Ron subsided and Harry suspected he had little desire to be Splinched again. Harry had absolutely no desire to be Splinched, or to risk Splinching Ginny who would have to rely on him to Apparate her. He rather thought that Apparition training had not been high on the Death Eater agenda for learning at Hogwarts last year. Ginny had certainly not indicated that she had the ability to Apparate. She was currently looking at Jonathon as he continued to explain the problems with Apparition.

"The red tape to sort out even emergency unlicensed Apparation would have you detained for more than a week," he was saying apologetically. Harry rather thought that was excessive but it seemed normal to Jonathon. His mind's eye pictured an army of rubber stamping Percys unable to deviate long enough to treat any piece of parchment or indeed, any person, as an individual.

"I'm sorry Hermione; I know you wanted to get to Yackandandah and your parents as soon as possible. We should be able to get there tomorrow sometime, as long as the new thought box gets here first thing," Jonathon was trying to console her but she didn't look the least bit comforted.

"It doesn't matter," mumbled Hermione as she sat heavily on a large rock nearby. Harry thought she suddenly looked rather depressed and he didn't blame her one bit. Ron sat down beside her and pulled her into a hug. With alarm, Harry realised that she was crying. Ron pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, inspected it for grime and offered it to her. Hermione took one look at it and buried her face in his jumper instead.

"On the bright side you'll get to see the sun setting at the Rock," said Jonathon. "Tourists come from all over the world to watch that. It's not the best of situations but most of the people around here are Muggles, few charms, they won't know we're even here."

"Looks like we're camping out!" said Bert. She and George seemed pleased and Bill and Ginny seemed unconcerned. Fleur grimaced only a little but Harry scowled and swore, Hermione burst into a fresh wave of tears wailing something that sounded like 'don't make me cook fungus' and Ron let out a long, low moan. Ginny threw questioning looks at the three of them.

"I hate camping," grumbled Harry as he sat heavily next to Hermione on the rock.

"What is so wrong with camping?" asked Ginny, looking between the three of them, her confusion evident on her face. "You all liked going to the World Cup."

"We've seen the dark side of camping since then, Ginny," said Ron dramatically, advancing on Ginny and waving his arms through the air as he talked. "Especially the, 'sorry we don't have any food', kind of camping. And let me tell you, stewed mushrooms are a load of dragon dung. And camping in the middle of winter, in the snow, isn't any picnic either! So forgive me if I appear less than enthused by the prospect of repeating that experience in the middle of bloody nowhere! "

"I'm guessing you three underplayed your whole camping experience last year then?" said Ginny as she backed slowly away from Ron. "Well, to be fair, it wasn't quite how I envisioned waking up on my seventeenth birthday either you know but-"

"Oh Merlin Ginny! I forgot tomorrow was your birthday!" wailed Hermione suddenly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Oh this is all my fault!"

She threw herself at Harry, sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder. Harry wrapped his arms tentatively around her, uncertain if it was the right thing to do and patted her slowly on the back. Ron stopped his advance on Ginny and hurried back to Harry and Hermione, kneeling on front of Hermione.

"I'm sorry Hermione," he said. "I shouldn't be making such a big deal of it. It's only one night. I can do it for only one night and, well it doesn't look like there's any fungus going to grow around this place anyway. Please, don't cry, I'm sorry." Hermione looked up at him and swallowed before nodding.

"Okay," she said. "I can do this, we can do this."

She grabbed one of Harry's hands rather tightly and he tried not to wince as she squeezed harder. Ron was in the same predicament if the grimace on his face was anything to go by, and the two of them looked at each other as she pulled herself together. Suddenly she let go of their hands and Harry began madly rubbing his hand with the other, trying to get back the circulation that had been stolen from him. He soon found his face squashed up against Hermione's shoulder, his glasses askew on his face and his nose inches from Ron's as Hermione pulled them both into a hug from which Harry could see no reasonable means of escape. He had no idea what had come over her and could think of nothing that might explain her behaviour. Harry looked to Ron, hoping for an answer but all he got was a shrug that Harry thought might mean Ron didn't know either.

Although Harry wasn't used to comforting or holding close anyone but Ginny he was fairly sure that the things he might do to Ginny right now did not apply to Hermione. All of a sudden, as he was contemplating his next action Harry was released and Hermione was wiping her eyes with Ron's handkerchief and proclaiming them the best friends ever and they had better not leave her alone for one minute of this whole camping thing or she was sure she wouldn't survive.

"That's a bit dramatic innit?" mumbled Ron. "Surely camping wasn't that bad. We're just remembering it that way, or something, yeah?" Harry and Hermione shook their heads slowly.

"It really was that bad, Ron," said Harry seriously.

"It was worse than that bad," agreed Hermione. "Promise me we won't ever have to go camping again?" Harry nodded solemnly. George started chuckling.

"I'm sure it's not that bad," he said. "I mean look, clear skies, a camp fire; we can tell stories or … sing. Be an adventure!" Hermione tilted her head to the side as if considering his words.

"Well, I suppose if we aren't shut up in a tent, hiding, you know, from the evil forces of the world," she murmured.

"And there's no snow here," added Harry.

"And if there's food …" continued Ron. The three of them looked at each other and took a deep breath.

"If you three aren't the biggest bunch of drama queens," said George, rolling his eyes. Ron crossed his arms and glared at him but neither he nor Harry or Hermione responded to that accusation.

"Come on Alberta," Ernie said as he prepared to Disapparate. "Let's get ya hand seen to and bring back the supplies."

"Don't call me that."

Bert and Ernie Disapparated with a loud crack while Jonathon settled down on the red dusty earth to wait for their return.

"Jonathon what's bone point or whatever Bert said?" George asked with a frown on his face as he plopped down beside the Australian.

"Pointing the bone's a curse."

"What sort of a curse?" asked Ginny, quietly.

"Killing one, leaves no trace, never fails," said Jonathon simply. He looked around, eyes narrowed, when Ginny and Ron went pale and Hermione's eyes widened in shock. Harry could feel Bill's eyes on him as his breath hitched in his throat and he suddenly felt unbelievably cold. "Ernie's a wizard o'course and he went to the whitefella magic school but he also knows the black magic. One of his old Uncles is a kurditcha man, that's like a wise man – or medicine man some call it – they gotta be wizards though, stands to reason considering what they do. Uncle taught him the magic from before whitefellas were even here. If one of the people broke the law the kurditcha man puts a curse on 'em. They have this bone, acts like a wand really, that they prepare some special way and they point it at the person and curse them. Lots of people think it kills slowly, reckon people just waste away, but I dunno …"

"Sounds more like _Avada Kedavra_ to me," muttered George.

"Zactly," said Jonathon nodding.

"That doesn't kill you slowly," said Ron softly. No one was looking at Harry or said anything further.

"Well," said Hermione briskly as the silence stretched out, "it sounds like a positively horrible curse anyway." Harry shoved both his hands in his pockets and stared fixedly at the toe of his worn trainers. Jonathon seemed oblivious to the thickening air that surrounded them, continuing to talk animatedly.

"Yeah, I wouldn't want to die slowly," he said. "Nice and quick, s'long as it didn't hurt." No one spoke and Jonathon cleared his throat awkwardly. "Ernie's mum's a Muggle but she believes in pointing the bone and as far as she's concerned Ernie's got enough powers to make it happen. She lets him do about any magic but that. It's serious stuff anyway, He's not the kurditcha so he shouldn't be doin' it in any case but he likes to spook people ..." The silence was still strained and Jonathon gave up trying to fill the void with words and fell silent.

"Dying doesn't hurt," said Harry softly, staring at something beyond the red horizon. "The Killing Curse hurts but dying doesn't."

He felt ruthless at that moment and struggled to contain his emotions. It wasn't Jonathon's fault, most people spoke rather casually of death. Part of him wanted to just shout and scream, to get his feelings out of his system as quickly as possible. The part of him that could see Ginny held it in check. She was standing perfectly still, her face incredibly pale, freckles standing out sharply and her eyes shut. Her chest was rising and falling shallowly and her hands were clenched into fists although she had obviously tried to hide this by folding her arms and trying to tuck her hands out of sight.

"Harry …" said Ron tentatively and Harry looked up at him, still fighting his internal battle not to fly completely off the handle. Ron didn't say anything else but somehow Harry felt his own emotions reel themselves back in where he could keep a handle on them and he let out a deep breath.

"The hardest part of dying is leaving behind the people you love," said Harry. He looked up at the sky, his emotions roiling in his chest, Ron's presence keeping them from flying out like vicious knives. "But when you've got people who love you waiting for you _there_ it's so easy to just keep going … on." The others were silent and Harry could sense them watching him as his internal struggle continued. He lowered his eyes and looked to Ginny who had opened her eyes and was looking at him, the expression on her face a mixture of fear and curiosity. He had not spoken so candidly of his experience in the Forest before and he could feel anticipation rolling off of them all.

"Coming back for the people you love is a lot easier than going to die for them," he said softly into the stillness. He heard Hermione sniff and looked over at her and Ron. Hermione had tears rolling down her cheeks and Ron was biting his lip as if that would prevent the tears from falling from his own glistening eyes. "I expect most people don't get a choice. But it's not hard to … stay; it would be so easy to just stay."

"Did you want to … well," said Ron, "to … stay, to go … on?" Harry almost felt, rather than heard, everyone suck in a breath and hold it while they waited for him to answer. He lowered his gaze to the ground and traced a pattern in the red dust with the toe of his left trainer.

"I don't think so," he said at last, "not really. A part of me perhaps felt it would be okay if I did. It was quiet and peaceful and there's no hurt or pain there. My parents are there." He paused aware that Ginny was now crying silent tears but he felt unable to go to her.

"It was peaceful, no pain …" said George slowly and Harry heard the unsaid question. Was Fred feeling that too? Or was Fred in as much pain as he was?

"I spoke to Remus," said Harry looking up at George and stilling his foot. "I saw him with the Stone. He was sorry he wouldn't be with Teddy but he wasn't sad. I didn't want to leave you all but I wasn't sad. I think sadness and pain is reserved for the living. I came back to stop the pain. There was already too much pain in this world. Coming back would make it less. I came back for you, for all of you." Everyone was crying now and Harry felt warm tears slide down his own cheeks as Ginny moved towards him. He enfolded her in his arms, holding her close but he didn't feel sad. It felt good to talk about it. He looked up at George and saw him smiling through his tears.

"So the git's got the easy half," he said, "and I've got you lot." Ron pulled him into a hug.

"Yeah," Ron said, "always." Harry looked back down at Ginny and lowered his head to kiss her tears away. Her cheeks tasted salty and her eyelids fluttered shut as she stood in his embrace, her hands on his chest.

"The hardest thing I have ever done is walk away from you," he whispered. "To listen to your pain was excruciating. It could be the easiest thing in the world to die but if I have a choice I will always, always come back to you." As Ginny opened her eyes and he looked into them Harry saw that although they were sparkling with tears, the pain on the edges was gone and he leaned down and kissed her softly.

"And I will always be here," said Ginny softly as he pulled away. She reached up and caressed his cheek and Harry closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. The rest of the world fell away and Ginny was his whole existence. He felt her soft touch where she stroked his cheek and ran her fingers through his hair. Her thighs were pressed against his own, he could feel the softness of her stomach against his and he could smell her.

"You've been through so much," Ginny whispered. Harry said nothing but let his hands drift up and down Ginny's back while she continued to caress his cheek and stroke his neck.

They stood there, Ginny wrapped in Harry's arms, while they caressed each other, oblivious to the world. Harry revelled in her sweet touch. Her fingertips blazed trails of fire across his skin and his body responded to hers. His eyes were still closed, but somehow Harry knew she was smiling and in response he pulled her closer. He knew it would make his reaction to her touch more obvious to her. He opened his eyes expecting to see her cheeks flushed with the trademark Weasley blush but she seemed unabashed by his physical reaction and smiled up at him. Her eyes were filled with desire and Harry felt irresistibly drawn to her despite the presence of three of her brothers. Harry bent his head to kiss her roughly, giving in to his own desire. It was not a sweet and tender kiss that merely told her how much he cared for her but one that showed her how much he _wanted_ her, for at that moment he wanted her, he desired her and the feeling thrilled and terrified him and when he broke off the kiss he was breathing heavily.

Ginny's lips were swollen and her cheeks were flushed and Harry felt like he had claimed her lips for his own and marked them. He realised what Arthur had meant when he referred to 'claiming' the woman that was his wife. Harry knew he was both impatient and content to wait to claim her body but he knew he had already claimed her mind and soul, and she his. Their bodies were the only part left to claim.

"I love you," he said roughly, his emotions still raw from talking about dying and from letting his desire reach out and touch her. Ginny looked at him then, letting her own raw passion spill from her gaze, the unspoken things swirling between them as they stayed wrapped in each other's arms, uninterrupted by the others until the stillness was broken by the crack of Bert and Ernie's Apparition. The world tumbled back in on them and Harry and Ginny pulled apart with one last lingering caress.

Bert and Ernie were carrying an enormous amount of supplies, Bert sporting a fat white bandage on her hand. A large canvas bag clanked and clanged as it fell from Ernie's arms when he tried to set down his burdens. He was carrying a large plastic box by the handle in one hand and several small parcels were balanced precariously in the crook of his other arm. Bert was carrying several plastic shopping bags in her good hand and had a smaller canvas bag wedged under her other arm. Jonathon hurried over to relieve Bert of her burdens and Bill and George sprang forward to assist Ernie. Harry was soon immersed in helping set up their camp for the night.

It seemed as though Jonathon, Bert and Ernie had been camping before. They erected two Muggle tents in the shadow of the Roobus in a matter of moments. On inspecting the inside Ron was both amused and disgusted to learn that they were no bigger on the inside than they were on the outside. He repeatedly expressed his outrage that there was no kitchen until Hermione silenced him with a very stern glare that Harry was sure she had learned from Ron's own mother. Harry asked why the bus didn't just produce beds like the Knight bus as he had assumed, but apparently the Roobus didn't have that feature as it wasn't designed for night time use.

Ernie upended one of the bags he'd brought with him and enlarged the contents which turned out to be a number of sleeping bags rolled together with thin foam mattresses. Pacing around for a moment he unrolled one of them and spread it out before summoning a number of rocks and arranging them in a circle about two feet in diameter. He dug a shallow pit in the middle of them before making a similar circle on the other side of the sleeping bag.

"Pass us yer swag, Johno," he muttered as he levitated more rocks for another circle.

"Don't call me that," grumbled Jonathon as he picked up another of the rolled sleeping bags. Harry watched as Ernie and Jonathon unrolled three more of the swags and created more stone circles, placing the swags strategically between two stone circles. Tossing three of the remaining rolls at Bert, Hermione and Ginny he indicated wordlessly that they were to go in the larger of the two tents. The other two he handed to Bill and jerked his head in the direction of the remaining tent.

"Are we sleeping outside?" asked Ron clearly suspicious of these sleeping arrangements. Jonathon nodded shortly as he explained that he was going for wood and Disapparated with a loud crack. Ron glared at Ernie. "Are you mad?"

"What's the problem?" asked Ernie. He gazed upwards. "'Snot going to rain."

"But – but it's … outside! What if we get cold?"

"S'what the fires are fer," said Ernie shortly shaking his head. "Poms ..."

"Just don't roll in your sleep, you don't want to end up in a fire," said Bert as she rustled in one of the plastic shopping bags, eventually pulling out three toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste in an enamel cup, tipping several enamel plates and tin cups onto the dirt in the process.

"How come Bill gets to sleep in a tent?" asked Ron indignantly.

"Mum's only got two tents."

"If you'd like to join me and Fleur Ron, I'm sure we could put you up for one night of our _honeymoon_," said Bill mischievously. Ron shuddered.

"No thanks," he said shortly. "And make sure you do a silencing charm."

"Stop!" cried George plaintively. "Stop these images from assaulting my brain!" Jonathon arrived back then, carrying a massive armful of firewood. He and Ernie distributed it among the small stone circles, setting it to make fires. Hermione emerged from the luggage compartment with her own toiletries and this prompted Harry to go and find his own necessary items.

When he'd found all he thought he'd need he saw that Ernie and Bert had transfigured one of the bus chairs into a table to hold the pile of crockery, an enormous frying pan and a large canteen with a tap at the bottom that Harry had seen Ernie pull from the luggage compartment. He and Bill were filling it using the Aguamenti charm. Jonathon was tending several of the fires and they crackled merrily on the desert floor. Suddenly Bert dropped a large pot heavily on her foot and swore softly. She'd forgotten her injured hand and tried to pick it up with both hands. Unfortunately she looked rather comical hopping on one foot with one hand bandaged within an inch of its life by Ernie's enthusiastic mother.

"Are you okay? Is your foot all right?" asked Jonathon, frantically rushing to her aid and reaching out to steady her. He grabbed Bert's injured hand and she yelped. Jonathon looked chagrined. "Is your hand all right?" Bert nodded, grimacing wryly at her bandage encased hand.

"I think Ernie's mum went a bit overboard with the bandages though," she said. "It's a pity you don't know any healing spells."

"It's a pity I'm not of age today then," muttered Ginny poking at one of the fires moodily with a stick. Harry looked at her curiously and then saw Bill was looking at Ginny with raised eyebrows. Harry was beginning to think that there were a few things he needed to find out about Ginny. Things he had not noticed or she had not revealed and he had a sinking suspicion they were all related to the previous year at Hogwarts. His thoughts were interrupted by Hermione who seemed to be quite agitated by Bert's injury. She was talking to Ron while he explored the supplies Bert and Ernie had brought back with them. She sounded quite distressed.

"I didn't bring any dittany," Hermione was fretting. "I knew I'd forget something." Ron stopped rifling through the food bags (and being slapped on the hand by Fleur) and turned to her. Reaching out to Hermione and putting his hand on her arm Ron spoke to her softly.

"It's okay, Hermione," he said. "Relax. You don't have to remember everything."

"Well, who's going to then? I mean it's such a simple thing, to be prepared for every emergency," rattled Hermione urgently. "I'm always prepared for things like this. I don't know why I forgot. I've let my guard down and now we're all going to suffer!"

Harry looked at her alarmed. She seemed capable of going on about her perceived shortcomings for hours. Ron pulled her into his arms, and unless Harry was mistaken he was _crooning_ to her. With a few well chosen words Ron calmed Hermione down, reassured her that she didn't have to remember everything and managed to make her smile. Harry wondered if Ron was Hermione's best source of comfort as Ginny was his. He knew he'd never been able to calm Hermione like that. Ron made it look so easy. Harry began to question his ability to calm Ginny if she got up a head of steam. If she was upset, would it be him she turned to and would he be able to calm and soothe her? Harry smiled as he watched Ron tease Hermione by telling her that she had better let her guard down sometimes or they'd not have very much fun. Hermione blushed at his suggestive tone and busied herself at the Transfigured table, straightening a pile of dishes that did not need straightening.

At sunset Jonathon persuaded Ernie that they could stop making camp and watch the Rock, so together they brought some of the chairs out of the bus and sat down to gaze at the giant monolith as the sun sank below the horizon. Harry found the changing colours and the shades caused by the shadows to be one of the most beautiful and mesmerising things that he had seen in a long time and as he watched the sun go down he listened to Ginny exclaim over the way the desert lit up like it was on fire. It probably looked a little absurd, sitting in a roomy recliner, next to an electric blue bus, in the middle of the desert, Ginny squashed beside him while he absently stroked her hair. It was an odd situation to be sure, but Harry didn't feel out of place. Perhaps it was having Ginny by his side but he felt somehow as if he was exactly where he was meant to be.

When the sun had gone down, and before the light vanished entirely Ernie and Jonathon began to fix something to eat. Harry felt rather useless as he stood watching the proceedings but Bert, Ernie and Jonathon seemed to move like a well oiled machine. Ernie's mum proved to be Molly's kindred spirit and had packed them enough food to last a week. There were vegetables, eggs, dried fruit, a loaf of bread, sugar and flour. As Bert opened the plastic box that Ernie had been carrying Jonathon prepared the frying pan, perching it on some of the hot coals that had begun to form in the largest of the fires. Her injured hand failing her, Bert dropped a wrapped block of butter on the ground and a cloud of the red dust rose up and settled like a thin film inside the box.

"Don' wreck the esky," groused Ernie as he used his wand to remove the dirt. Harry peered inside as he and Ginny went to help Bert and discovered it contained several ice packs, a block of cheese, several cartons of milk and various packages of meat.

"A bit of dirt won't wreck it, you old woman," grumbled Bert. Jonathon sighed loudly.

"Don't start," he warned. "I knew there was a reason I stopped camping with you two."

"And I thought it were 'coz you couldn't stan' bein' near Bert of a night withou' throwin' 'er ta the groun' and-" mumbled Ernie before Jonathon elbowed him sharply in the side and handed him the flour and a carton of milk.

"Make the damper or go catch a lizard, just shut ya mouth before I shut it for you," hissed Jonathon. "And find ya manners and good humour while ya at it." Ernie shoved the milk and flour at Bert and stalked off into the darkening scrub, his choice clear. Bert just scowled after him muttering that being the girl didn't mean she had to cook. Harry stifled a laugh at the look of solidarity Hermione threw her.

"I'll make the damper then," said Jonathon exasperatedly and stalked off to the table with the milk and flour. He didn't hear Bert, watching his retreating backside, say what a pity it was that he'd stopped camping with them as she would have enjoyed being thrown to the ground. George leapt towards Ginny, covering her ears with his hands.

"Not in front of the child!" he said dramatically as Ginny fought him off.

"So help me George," she cried as she twisted out of his grasp finally. "Tomorrow morning you'd better watch your back!"

"Be afraid, little brother, be very afraid!" laughed Bill and Ginny stalked off and stomped into the girls' tent letting the flap swing shut after her.

Ernie returned a short time later, carrying two lizards. Harry watched, fascinated and repulsed as Ernie prepared them and propped them over the fire to cook. Jonathon had combined the milk and flour to make a lump of dough that he buried in the coals to cook and Bert expertly sliced some potatoes and onions setting the enormous frying pan over the fire to cook lamb chops and the vegetables. Fleur was looking distastefully at the entire production but George had been extremely enthusiastic about the process and proved an able assistant. He and Jonathon laughed and joked as they worked together and Ron smiled as they chased Bert around the campsite with their hands covered in dough. George seemed so carefree and Harry wondered if he was really doing okay or if it was all an act because the kind of hurt George had ran deep. Maybe it was a good start.

The stars had come out by the time the food was cooked and they ate by the light of the stars and several glowing campfires. The lump of dough that Jonathon had buried in the coals to cook had proved to be a kind of bread called damper and when she'd stopped complaining about perceived women's work Bert had taught Ginny how to make damper to which they added dried fruit. The food was plain, but cooked and eaten outdoors it tasted like a delicacy. When they had finished and they lay sprawled, sated in their chairs Hermione and Bill lazily cleaned the pans and dishes with_ Scourgify_ and levitated them back to lie in a haphazard pile on the small table. The fires died down to burning embers that gave off a comforting heat and the darkness settled over the outback like an inky blanket. Harry and Ginny sat cuddled together in the recliner they had occupied earlier, their feet entwined on the raised footrest.

With lazy contentment, under the cover of darkness, Harry traced his fingers up and down her body, heedless of where they travelled and he explored her stomach, chuckling softly as she squirmed when he dragged his fingertips lightly across its surface. He caressed the round softness of her bottom and the curve of her hips, feeling slightly envious of the denim that was closer to her skin than he was. Ginny shivered as he drew a line down her backbone and he leaned down to press a sweet kiss to her neck. The passion that had filled him earlier did not return in the same way but he could feel it simmering underneath the barrier he had erected to keep it in check. It was what drove him to explore her body but now was not the time to let it go. Even if they had not been in the open and surrounded by eight other people it was too soon. Only when he could control it could he let it rule. And so Harry kissed her softly, caressing her tongue and lips with his own while his hands traced repeating patterns on the small patches of skin he could find under her jumper.

"I can't see any stars I recognise," said Ron suddenly into the stillness. George laughed.

"Did you even pass your Astronomy OWL?" he chuckled.

"Yes, I did thank you very much, unlike you Mr Three OWLS," retorted Ron.

"Hey, I earned those three OWLS fair and square," commented George conversationally.

"Oh, really?" said Hermione drily from her seat beside Ron.

"Yep," said George, "Fred got the Potions and Transfiguration OWLS and I got the Charms and Herbology OWLS. We both managed a Defence Against the Dark Arts one each. Didn't need us both to get them all did we?"

"Really," said Hermione exasperatedly, "That's a bit short sighted of you both isn't it? I mean what about now that -" She broke off and Harry was certain she was horrified at her own train of thought and that she had voiced it.

"You worry too much Hermione," said George lightly. "Ron's got his Potions and Transfiguration OWLS. Besides Fred and I taught each other anyway we just didn't have time for the actual study involved, much more important things to do."

"Yes, like creating mayhem and mischief wherever you went," piped up Bill.

"True," agreed George. The group fell silent then and Harry looked up at the stars as Ginny danced her fingers over his chest and across his stomach. He closed his eyes and let his other senses pick up the other sensations; the scent of her, her hip pressed against his, her hair as it brushed against his arm and tickled his chin.

"Hey I found Vega!" said Ron suddenly. "But it's in the wrong spot. Where is north …" Harry could hear Ron twisting in his seat and imagined his perplexed expression as he searched the night sky.

"Can you see Alpha Centauri?" asked Jonathon. Ron made an exasperated noise and Jonathon chuckled. Using his lit wand tip he pointed out Arcturus low on the Western Horizon he guided them to Antares overhead but Ron was unconvinced.

"Well where's Scorpius then?" he snorted. "How can you lot see anything down here?" Jonathon laughed. Conjuring a telescope he showed Ron where Scorpius was.

"But it's upside down!" said Ron incredulously. "And where did the Pleiades go? It's winter isn't it?"

"They're visible at this time of night in summer, along with Orion and Gemini," said Bert. Ron grunted. Obviously Ron did not like his world being turned on its axis like this as he grumbled that he couldn't even figure out which way anything was supposed to be. Jonathon showed him how to find south using the Southern Cross constellation and began pointing out other stars and constellations.

"But it's all upside down," said Ron again, rather petulantly after he finally saw the Teapot that Jonathon was pointing out in the Sagittarius constellation.

"Well you are Down Under, mate," said Bert.

"Not upside down if you know the right stories," said Ernie, "stupid to use Northern constellations down here, all upside down."

"Where's Sirius?" asked Harry suddenly. He had been trying to locate the brightest star in the sky while Ron created a fuss about things, but he had been unable to find it. Jonathon swung his wand to point low on the horizon towards the south east.

"Sirius should come up about two or three tomorrow morning," he said and Ernie laughed. Jonathon shifted slightly in the darkness. "Orion and his dog will be upside down of course which would make Sirius harder for you lot to find."

"So you're saying if we looked for Orion's head we'd have to travel up, not down, to find the rest of the constellation?" clarified Ginny. "That would make Sirius on the other side and the dog constellation upside down?"

"Sirius, the upside down dead dog!" chortled Ernie. He didn't notice how quiet the rest of the camp fell at his words but Harry did. He knew that Ginny was holding her breath and he could practically feel Hermione and Ron's eyes on him. In the shadows he saw Bill turn towards him and George sit up abruptly in his chair. They were all waiting for his reaction which bubbled up inside him like the bubbles in a can of soft drink and burst out, shattering the stillness as Harry laughed. Ginny stiffed and then laughed when his shoulders shook with laughter and he leaned his head on her shoulder as he succumbed to the hilarity that welled up inside him. He could hear Ron and George join his laughter and faintly he heard Hermione weakly protest before she joined in as well.

"I didn't think Ern was that funny," said Bert eventually after they had calmed down a little, hiccupping only occasionally. Harry only shook his head as more silent laughter bubbled up. He knew, somehow that Sirius, and probably Remus and his father, would appreciate the joke and the irony of the situation and all he could do was laugh. Bert went on. "You should tell 'em the real stories Ern."

"The stars are the ancestors," began Ernie as they fell silent listening to the storytelling rhythm of Ernie's voice. "Different mobs have different dreaming 'bout the stars but mostly they is ancestors gone on before, after the creation of the land. Them stars you call Pleiades is seven women, jus' like in your stories. They are running from their pursuer. Is different for other mobs though, resting place of the dead for some."

"Why is there more than one story?" asked Hermione and Harry pondered the same question as Ernie replied.

"More than one mob," he said. "Most all the stars is ancestors though. It's connected to the land and different people got different land so the stories aren't gunna be the same, aye? Some are lost too. When the whitefellas moved the people away from their lands and families, they took the little kids away, y'know, they destroyed their kinships and their connections to the land. The dreaming was lost." Ernie was solemn as he spoke about the loss of his peoples' cultures and Harry, knowing what it was like to be taken from your family and raised in a place where you did not belong, losing your family and your heritage in the process, felt a connection to them.

"Well what about Scorpius then?" asked Ron. "If it's upside down is it still a scorpion?"

"No," said Jonathon, "It's a crocodile. The crocodile's head is where the scorpion's tail is."

"And see here, in the Milky Way," and Bert pointed out a void with her wand, "that's an emu there, in the shadows."

"Orion's an emu too, in some mobs," interjected Ernie. "There's warriors and hunters and eagles up there. Southern Cross got lots of different dreaming." It was getting late and the fires were dying down. The absence of natural light made the stars easier to see and they stayed awake watching the stars, pointing out the constellations and telling stories until one by one they drifted off to bed.

Ginny fell asleep on Harry's shoulder shortly before midnight and he carried her into her tent, laying her carefully on one of the swags. He removed her shoes and tucked her into the sleeping bag before smoothing the hair off her face and pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. He came out of the tent to find Ernie tucked up in one of the swags laid out between the fires and Bill and Fleur already gone into their tent. Ron and Hermione was still sitting, side by side, talking earnestly in quiet whispers and Jonathon and Bert were so tied up with each other that Harry was entirely unsure where one finished and the other began. He sat down next to George in the chair vacated by Ernie. George was leaning back and looking up into the sky.

"Do you think they're up there, with the stars?" asked George quietly. Harry knew he meant those who had died, gone before.

"Maybe," said Harry, tilting his head back to look at the stars. "They're somewhere they can see us. Mum and dad are proud of me, so're Sirius and Remus. If they couldn't see me, how could they be proud?"

"But how do you know that, Harry?"

"When I used the Stone, the Resurrection Stone, I saw them along with Remus," said Harry, looking up into the vast sky. "No one else could have seen them though …. Sirius said … he said they were a part of me." Harry looked at George who was staring at the glowing embers of the fire in front of him. Hermione had gone and Ron had burrowed into one of the swags and was starting to snore gently. Bert and Jonathon stood near the girls' tent sharing a last lingering kiss.

"If they're a part of you," said George slowly as he turned to look at Harry, "then they never really left." Harry nodded.

"I don't think they ever truly leave us, y'know?" he said softly. "They live on because we loved them and they loved us. All we have to do is remember them. Maybe they are up in the stars, but they're right here, too." And Harry placed his hand over his own heart. George stared at Harry's hand for a moment before he looked back up into the night.

"I miss Fred, so much," he said. "I feel torn in two. It doesn't seem fair that he's with me, but I can't feel him."

"All you have to do is remember," said Harry. "He's always with you, just let yourself feel."

"I don't want to feel," George whispered. "Feelings hurt … too much."

"I know," said Harry simply.

"D'you really think he's not sad?" asked George then. "You know, up there, in heaven or wherever." Harry nodded. He smiled a little wryly.

"I've met far too many dead people," he grimaced at his bluntness but George chuckled softly. "Only the ghosts are sad. If someone's a ghost it's like … like they aren't finished. They're scared or worried, got something left to do. But people who've gone … on … they have all been smiling. They're happy. Fred's not a ghost. He'd not have left us alone if he was."

"He'd have been water bombing us with Peeves," added George. Harry couldn't help it, he laughed and George joined in. After a moment George sobered. "If he's not a ghost, he's happy?" Harry saw a lone tear escape George's eye and roll down his cheek.

"Probably," he whispered. "There's peace there, I'm sure of it. I think the tears, the sadness, are reserved for here. There's no tears in heaven." George's face was wet now as the tears rolled silently down his cheeks.

"I couldn't bear it if he was sad too. This just hurts so much," said George as he wrapped his arms around his knees and laid his head on them. His tears dripped slowly down his face and onto his knees, soaking his jeans and Harry, unable to stop himself, moved closer to George and wrapped an arm around him, holding George as he cried, silent tears sliding down his own nose. George quietened but made no move to leave Harry's embrace.

"It's okay to feel, George," whispered Harry roughly, his own throat scratchy and raw. "Let yourself feel him, he's always with you."

"Oh Merlin, this just hurts," said George brokenly and a loud sob broke the stillness as it tore from his throat. Harry saw Ron sit up abruptly.

"Fred is right here," said Harry softly, reaching out to touch George's chest on the place over his heart. "Those we love never really leave us, let yourself feel." Harry felt his heart breaking as George closed his eyes, pain etched on his features, perhaps battling internally. Eventually George pulled away, eyes shimmering with tears, half a smile on his face.

"Living hurts," he said simply. "How are you still sane after … everything? I sometimes think I'm going to go mental from this pain." Harry stared off into the distance.

"Sometimes I think I nearly did," he admitted.

"What stopped you?"

"Ginny," Harry said softly, stirring up the coals on the fire in front of them. Ron had not moved, he sat motionless watching them. "I don't know how to explain it. She … keeps me here. All of you … the love … but Ginny's different." George wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand.

"You're in love with her," he said. He wasn't mocking and he wasn't accusing, rather he sounded awed.

"Yeah, I am," breathed Harry. "My life is completely tied up in hers, I can't help it. I don't know how I could even begin to live without her now. There are people missing from my life, but with her … I feel it less." Harry didn't know if he was making sense to George. Trying to express how Ginny made him feel didn't seem possible. It was like being alive and numb to pain all at the same time.

"They are still with me, those I've lost," he continued. "They're part of me. Sirius, Remus, my mum and dad they left their mark on me. They've protected me from Dementors, all my life. Remus taught me how to do a Patronus and they fuelled it. It's a stag, like my dad, y'know? But Ginny … I reckon she fuels it now. All of them, they are all here." Placing a hand over his heart, he could feel it beating. George stared at Harry's hand for a moment.

"You just have to let the love get bigger than the pain," Harry said simply.

"Thanks, Harry," George said, he paused and looked at Harry with a sly grin on his face. "D'you reckon it's finding a bird that helps?"

"Ginny's not a bird," muttered Harry. "I wouldn't let her or Hermione hear you say that." George laughed softly.

"No, I don't reckon I will," he acquiesced. "Seriously though, d'you think girls, well that one special girl, can do it? Fix the pain? Block it out, take over. You know, if you love her enough?" Harry considered that for a moment, tilting his head to one side as he stared into the darkness.

"You find the right girl and kissing her is better than Firewhiskey," he said eventually.

"Blimey Harry, when did you get so wise?" Harry shrugged and they both looked up into the night sky. It was well after midnight now and Harry could see Rigel on the North East horizon. Sirius would be visible soon and he felt an overwhelming urge to see the star. After several long minutes he and George said goodnight and quietly made their way to the two remaining swags and lay down. Harry caught Ron's eye and Ron nodded at him before burrowing himself back into his own swag. As the Dog Star came up over the horizon, Harry could hear George's even breathing and before gently sliding off to sleep under the southern sky, Harry made a wish on the star that George's troubles would melt away so that he would be able to feel without the pain.


	21. Chapter 21

**'s No Place Like Home**

"AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The cry ripped through the still air of the campsite, shattering the early morning stillness. Harry raised his head briefly from the pillow he'd conjured to see George clutching his head on either side while Ginny stood over him with her wand out. He smirked and laid his head back down, burrowing into the warm sleeping bag Ernie's mum had sent with the food. He wasn't alone for long.

"Morning, Harry!"

"Mornin'," he mumbled to Ginny, his eyes still closed. Something landed on his chest with a thump and expelled his breath with a soft 'umph'.

"Is that how you greet me on my birthday?" Ginny asked, inches from his face. "On my _seventeenth_ birthday, Mr Potter?"

Harry could feel the tip of her wand resting on his cheek and he smiled, opened his eyes and looked straight into hers. The sun creeping over the horizon cast a soft light on her features and glinted off her hair. He could see clearly the dusting of freckles across her pink cheeks and the tip of her nose. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and if he'd had any breath left it would have been taken away at the sight of her.

"Good morning, beautiful," he whispered sincerely, "happy birthday." Her soft pink lips curved into the faintest of smiles.

"Nicely saved, Harry," she whispered back as she melted into him and pressed her lips to his.

Harry thought having his arms trapped in a sleeping bag while Ginny Weasley lay on top of him, kissing the life out of him, was perhaps the most exquisite torture known to wizardkind. He moaned softly into her mouth wanting to do so much more than just kiss her. He tried valiantly to free his arms so that he could run his hands up her back and into her hair. He nearly came undone when she made a delightful little noise and, dropping her wand, ran both hands into his hair. Somehow, despite the cumbersome sleeping bag, he found her underneath him and his hands quite free to plunge into her hair and grip her waist. He was just about to slip one hand under the waistband of her jeans and go exploring when the moment was ruined by George.

"I can _hear_ you!" he bellowed. "Not only can I _see_ you but I can hear you! Every. Last. Little. Noise."

Harry stopped abruptly and lifted his head from where he'd been doing something quite delightful to Ginny's neck. Ginny made a strangled noise of discontent. George was glaring at them, two enormously large ears growing from the sides of his head, the lobes almost touching the ground as he sat in his own sleeping bag. Harry put his forehead down on Ginny's and began to chuckle.

"Well if he doesn't want me to _hear_ so much he deserves to hear exceptionally well, to make up for it," whispered Ginny with a grin. George made a disgusted noise as Harry bent his head once again to Ginny's neck.

"Nice work," Harry complimented her. Ginny giggled.

"Stop it you two," grumbled George, before raising his voice slightly. "Oi! Knock it off you lot!"

Harry looked up quizzically but didn't have to wait long before Bill poked his head out of his tent. His hair was mussed and he looked flushed and particularly unhappy. Ron and Hermione soon emerged from the other tent.

"Knock what off, George – whoa!"

"I can hear every noise you lot are making, you know," said George conversationally. "It's not pleasant."

"I disagree," growled Bill.

"From this side," clarified George.

"How did you get those ears mate?" asked Ron trying but failing to conceal his laughter.

"His girlfriend did this to me," said George in an accusatory tone, pointing at Harry as if it was his fault. Harry struggled to sit up, his legs still tangled in the sleeping bag.

"Oh that's nice," said Ginny as she looked for her wand, "you've disowned me now. I'm not your sister anymore, just _his_ girlfriend?"

"It's only a matter of time Ginny, before you belong to _him_," said George seriously. "We may as well get used to it."

Harry saw Ginny scowl at her brother and begin fingering her wand and he put out a hand to stop her. She looked at him, her eyes full of fury but he begged her silently to keep still. George looked up at Ginny, an unreadable expression on his face.

"You used to be our little Gin-Gin," he said softly, "and it was our job to protect you, take care of you and look after you. To love you." Ginny's face softened and she got up and went over to George, curling herself up in his lap. Bill emerged from the tent then, buttoning the waistband on his jeans, his shirt slung over his shoulder. George continued.

"But now you're all grown up and legal," he said putting his arms around her, "and it's not our job any more." Bill stood looking at them, shivering slightly in the frigid morning air.

"You're not our little Ginny any more," said Ron softly as she hugged George, somehow managing to work around his massive ears. "Not our girl. You're _his_ girl and that's the way we like it."

"So does Charlie. Percy's in denial," added George, managing to lay his head on Ginny's shoulder, flicking the left ear out of the way.

"Fred …" he began, his voice faltering and cracking, "he wanted you to be with Harry. He wanted you to be Harry's girl if you couldn't be ours anymore." Ginny smiled fondly at George.

"I'm still your little sister. Your little Gin-Gin," she said softly, "even now I'm all grown up you're still my big brothers. I love you." Harry smiled softly as Ron knelt next to Ginny and George and put his arms around them.

"Happy birthday Ginny," he said pulling them tight. Bill joined them only a moment later, the four of them tangling in a heap.

"Happy birthday, Gorgeous," said Bill, squeezing them tight. "Congratulations. "

"Guys, you're hurting my ears," said George. Harry laughed as they separated and George looked up at him.

"You'll look after our girl won't you Harry?"

"Yeah," said Harry, "I'll look after your girl." Bill looked at Harry then, an odd expression on his face that Harry couldn't quite decipher and Ginny smiled at him from George's lap where she fondly stroked his oversized ears as he scowled at her.

"Maybe it's a bit overprotective," George said softly to Harry a moment later. "But it doesn't matter how grown up she is, she's still our little sister but she's your girl now." Ginny snorted indelicately but did not protest the sentiment.

"There's no one else we trust," Ron said quietly. Harry realised that although he didn't need it and although they didn't have to give it, he had the approval of Ron and George who, much like their father had entrusted him with her happiness, had entrusted her care and safety to him. It was an approval that guaranteed there would be no interference in their relationship and that they respected it as taking precedence. He looked at Ginny as she sat between her brothers, a wide smile on her face as George tried to tickle her.

"I remember when you were born. It was amazing, you were so tiny and so pink and a _girl_." said Bill softly. "Mum was rapt and we all knew that you were special. I can't believe you're seventeen."

"Neither can I!" she said brightly. "I can't believe I have been seventeen for more than six hours and I still haven't been given a single present!" Bill laughed and fished a small box out of his pocket.

"Dad brought this around just before we left, he asked me to wish you a happy birthday from him and mum," said Bill. He continued softly as Fleur emerged from the tent and came over to sit on his lap, draping a sleeping bag over the two of them. "Dad said they would have been here if they could."

"Yes and maybe then Mum would make you take these ears off," complained George. "Everything's so loud. Can't you take them off now, please?"

"Ginny," said Hermione quietly, Harry was startled, he'd forgotten she was there, "how did you make both of his ears bigger when he only has one?"

"I didn't make them bigger," said Ginny absently as she tugged at the bow on the small box Bill had given her. "I put new ones on."

"Can you put smaller ones on?" asked Hermione intently, moving closer to George and inspecting his head.

"Maybe," said Ginny thoughtfully as she paused just before pulling the lid off the box. "I didn't try." George twisted his ear out of Hermione's grasp but Hermione made an exasperated noise and pulled him back, examining the ear on the side of his head where he had no ear.

"How long do you think they'll last?" murmured Hermione. Ginny shrugged.

"I don't know Hermione, I didn't intend to give him massive ears forever!" She went back to her present and pulled the lid off, rustling in the tissue paper inside.

"Just … can we take them off now?" whined George. "That rustling is very annoying."

"Talking must be killing you," said Ron louder than necessary and George threw him a filthy look. Ginny sighed and waved her wand vaguely in his direction and the ears vanished.

"Thank you," George breathed, feeling the sides of his head.

"You're welcome," said Ginny with a grin as she pulled a delicate watch from the box. "Oh!"

Harry watched as Bill helped her fasten it then Fleur handed her a flat box. It contained a small, delicate hand mirror and matching hairbrush. Jonathon roused himself and wished Ginny a happy birthday before he ducked into the girls' tent. Ernie raised his head and snorted, mumbling something about Bert and beds and tension before he pulled his sleeping bag back over his head.

Harry just sat and watched as Ginny opened a book from Hermione and as Ron and George presented her with a large box of chocolates. The early morning sun glinted off her hair and her smile was captivating. Harry smiled as he watched her thank her brothers and Hermione before she tore open the box of chocolates and, carefully selecting one, popped it into her mouth. She was beautiful and Harry couldn't take his eyes off her as she ate chocolates for breakfast and flipped through the book Hermione had given her. He pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on them, and watched as George picked up the brush and pulled it through her red tresses. George said something that was obviously teasing and Ginny turned and poked her tongue out at him.

Harry was content but he ached to hold her, to kiss her. As if she could read his thoughts Ginny suddenly looked up from the box of chocolates and caught his gaze. He held it steadily as she put the book and the chocolates aside and climbed off George's lap. She approached him slowly, the few steps between them taking forever and Harry lowered his knees and leaning back on his hands, raised his head as she approached so that he was still looking into her eyes. Ginny stood still for a moment only inches from him and tilted her head to one side.

"Have you got something for me, Mr Potter?" she asked, in a seductive and teasing tone.

"Are you looking for your birthday present, Miss Weasley?" he replied. She nodded cheekily and Harry continued. "I do believe that I would like to give you the same thing you gave me when I came of age." Harry detangled himself from the sleeping bag and stood up, pulling her to him, no longer the least bit shy or embarrassed that he was about to kiss her senseless while under the attention of three of her brothers.

He kissed her then, pouring all his feelings into the kiss. Ginny responded eagerly, demanding entrance to his mouth almost immediately, her hands going straight to tangle in his hair. Harry let his hands pull her closer as he lost himself in her and he dimly wondered if this was a present for her or for him. He didn't know how long they stood there, on the desert floor, sun streaming over the horizon as they kissed. He didn't care either and he took his time slowly exploring her lips and teeth and every inch of her mouth. When he pulled away breathless, he noticed they were alone, Ginny's birthday presents in a pile on George's discarded sleeping bag, everyone else some distance away looking through the esky for breakfast.

"Happy birthday," he breathed. "I love you." Ginny smiled at him before pulling out her wand.

"_Accio _birthday present!" she cried and Harry laughed as a little box sailed out of the tent where he had given it to Fleur for safe keeping, and to hide it from Ginny who had taken to exploring his pockets the day before in an effort to find it. She opened it slowly and gasped at the necklace inside. It was a simple opal pendant, but the stone was alive with the colours of the rainbow. Harry plucked it from the box and motioned for her to turn around. Carefully he fastened it around her neck.

"The jeweller said opals have fire in them," he said softly. "Fire trapped in a stone and that's what makes it beautiful. Just like the fire inside you makes you irresistibly beautiful." He finished fastening the clasp and Ginny turned to face him, the pendant resting on her chest, the colours flashing as the sun's rays struck it.

"Thank you," she whispered and Harry kissed her lips tenderly.

"You're welcome," said Harry softly, and then, just because he could, he kissed her again, winding his fingers into her hair and pressing her body to his. The scent and smell of sizzling bacon drifted across the campsite and teased his nostrils but he kept kissing Ginny until she pulled away. He felt bereft at the loss and his head instinctively followed her as she backed away. It took a strangled noise from Ginny to make him open his eyes. She was looking at him intently and he thought he would melt under the intensity of it. Her face was flushed and her lips were bruised and swollen. He reached up a thumb to softly stroke her bottom lip and she sucked in a breath.

"You need to shave," she whispered with a glint in her eye that either meant mischief or hilarity. Harry smiled ruefully at her as he realised why she had pulled away. "Not that I don't think that stubble_ looks_ unbelievably sexy." Harry remained rooted to the spot as she trailed a hand down the rough stubble on his cheek and sauntered away to collect her birthday presents. He watched her go back to her tent and remained staring after her long after she had disappeared.

"Oi, Potter! Give us a hand with breakfast you lazy sod!"

Harry looked over at Ron and grinned before ambling over to inspect the contents of the frying pan. Ernie was holding several pieces of bread over the fire on long sticks to toast them while Jonathon watched Bill poke at some sausages as they sizzled in a pan.

"-this obsession you Poms have with a cooked brekkie," Bert was saying as she sat, hunched in front of the fire, a bowl and spoon in her hands.

"What's wrong with a cooked brekkie?" asked Jonathon in a most offended tone. Bert snorted in a very unladylike fashion.

"What's wrong with good old fashioned Weet-Bix?" she asked airily, waving her spoon aloft and flicking milk and brown pulp around her head.

"Oi!" cried George ducking and weaving to avoid being splattered with the soggy missile. "Watch it!"

"Weet-Bix is _boring_," said Jonathon decisively. "I like a cooked brekkie."

"Yes, well don't you expect me to cook you any brekkie in January when it hits 30 degrees before dawn," uttered Bert ominously as she scooped up whatever disgusting thing was in her cereal bowl and ate it.

"Can I expect your company for breakfast in January?" asked Jonathon softly. Bert dropped her spoon into her now empty bowl with a small clatter and looked up at him.

"That depends on if you marry me before New Year," she replied. Jonathon regarded her, neither of them breaking eye contact.

"I'll marry you tomorrow if you'll have me," said Jonathon in a voice devoid of all joking humour. Bert tilted her head as she studied him intently.

"Really?"

"Really," he nodded.

"Have to run the Roobus tomorrow," said Ernie suddenly. "Make up for the lost time." Jonathon turned to look at Ernie who was unconcernedly dropping the toast he had made on a plate next to him and spearing the next piece of bread. Bert exploded.

"Don't ruin my proposal like that!" she screeched at him and George stifled a snort.

"That was a proposal?" asked Ron, his nose screwed up as he looked from Bert to Jonathon and back again.

"Sat'day'd be better," said Ernie, twirling the toast as he held it over the fire. He looked thoughtful. "You could go buy a dress mebbee if Johno helps me on the bus on Friday."

"Don't call me that," muttered Jonathon.

"Gavin'd give you a room at The Bucket on Sat'day," continued Ernie blithely, stacking the toast into a carefully constructed tower. "You could put on a good bash without too much trouble."

"You – you can't just get married like that!" exclaimed Hermione, she looked utterly scandalised. "What about planning and guest lists and menus and – and …" Jonathon looked up at her, eyebrows raised but Bert smiled at her.

"That's a wedding, Hermione," she said simply. "You can get married without all the menus and the planning." Jonathon reached out and took Bert's hand.

"Do you want to get married?" he asked her. Bert stared at their joined hands for a moment.

"I haven't wanted anything else so much for six years," she said quietly. "I want to be with you, to laugh with you, to love with you, to live with you, to wake up with you-"

"To go to bed with you," interrupted Ernie.

"Ernie!" Bert was blushing to the roots of her hair and Harry could see Ernie hiding a grin as he meticulously buttered the tower of toast he'd been cooking.

"Marry me on Saturday then," said Jonathon seriously. "You could even wear a dress, I wouldn't mind." Bert laughed, Hermione shook her head and Fleur looked positively horrified.

"Yes," said Bert, "yes I'll marry you on Saturday. I might even wear a dress."

"So, I should stock up on Weet-Bix then?" asked Jonathon laughing.

"Who said we're living at your place?" Bert questioned indignantly, but instead of answering her Jonathon pulled her to him and crushed her lips to his in a searing kiss.

"Thees ees ridiculous!" said Fleur emphatically. "You cannot just get _married_ like zat!"

"Why not?" demanded George. "Cuts out a lot of the fuss you had when you got married." Fleur glowered at him.

"Less for Mum to fuss over as well," added Ron.

"No chance for Auntie Muriel to force her tiara on your head," muttered Ginny who had arrived during the preceding conversation and was now making George twitch by twirling her wand at him.

"Oh, I'd like to see you three tell Mum you're getting married in less than a week and having the reception in a pub," chortled Bill, eyeing his younger siblings.

"Don't even think about it Ron," said Hermione idly, as she searched for something to spread on her toast. Ron spluttered and fell silent. Harry just grinned at him as he brought Ginny a plateful of bacon and eggs for breakfast which she accepted with a grateful smile.

"Look at you, all chivalrous and gallant," Ron teased and with a flick of her wand Ginny made Ron's nose grow. Her brother ruefully shook his head.

"I forgot you can do that now," he muttered and this earned him the loss of his eyebrows. He opened his mouth, presumably to complain about that.

"A Bat Bogey on a nose that size, Ron?"

Ron sat quietly after that trying to eat his breakfast under his oversized nose until Ginny took pity on him and shrank it back so he could eat his toast. Harry had idly poked a finger at the pressed wheat flake biscuits that Bert had been eating but decided he preferred bacon and eggs over the brown slosh they turned into when Bert added milk to her second helping. Jonathon and Bert sat close together next to the fire, Jonathon balancing a plate of bacon, eggs and toast while Bert teased him about putting marmalade on his toast instead of Vegemite.

"You've gone all Pommy," she teased; affecting a superior tone that Harry guessed she imagined to be a British accent. "First, bacon and eggs for breakfast and now marmalade on one's toast."

"I like marmalade," protested Jonathon, but it was without ire, his fingers caressed Bert's thigh as he spoke, edging towards the hem of her shorts. "You're just an Aussie kid, through and through with your Weet-Bix and your Vegemite."

"That's right," affirmed Bert as she picked up a piece of toast and slathered it in Vegemite.

"That's disgusting," said Jonathon as he wrinkled his nose at her but Bert simply took a big bite and chewed provocatively. Jonathon wound his arm around her waist and picked up his own toast with his other hand and the two of them munched in silence, Bert laying her head on Jonathon's shoulder.

"Are you two really going to get married on Saturday?" Harry asked them. Jonathon smiled and Bert nodded.

"Eet ees madness," sniffed Fleur. "A wedding, it takes more zan buying a dress and renting a room."

"Why?" asked Ginny suddenly. "Why can't it just be buying a dress and having a place for everyone to celebrate with you? Why do you have to plan menus and decorations and things?" Fleur looked at her blankly.

"But Ginny," began Hermione, "don't you want to make your wedding special?"

"Hey, are you saying their wedding won't be special?" questioned George, indicating Bert and Jonathon. "I think it's a brilliant idea. I might steal it."

"Well no – no th- that's not what I meant," Hermione stammered. "But your wedding is something special that reflects who you are, isn't it? I think it reflects Bert and Jonathon perfectly, but can you see Ginny getting married in a pub?"

"Oh I'm not going to get married in a pub!" exclaimed Ginny. "But there's also no way I'm colour matching anything or making vol-au-vents!"

"Oh I don't know, Ginny," interjected Ron, "there's something quite alluring about the Hogs Head." Ginny gave him a withering look and fingered her wand. Ron fell silent.

"If it's a reflection of you, Hermione," said George thoughtfully, "are you going to get married in a Quidditch pitch full of books?"

"With an orange theme?" added Bill.

"I'll look hideous in orange," mused Ginny. The tips of Ron's ears were going red and Hermione flushed a pale pink. Harry smiled and noted that neither of them denied anything as Ron's siblings continued their gentle ribbing.

"Oh, Mum could make one of those Quidditch pitch cakes!" crowed George.

"Snitches for wedding favours," said Ginny with glee.

"You should have it at Halloween," George insisted. "That would be fantastic because it incorporates the orange and provides a perfect backdrop for the black spiders!"

"Spiders?" squeaked Ron, suddenly finding his voice. "What spiders?"

"Well isn't a wedding about bringing two people together?" asked George. "Celebrating who they are and that they want to share their lives … forever and ever and ever? Rejoicing in their personalities and celebrating their union. Becoming one and sharing all their hopes and dreams and fears … like spiders."

"If you bring any spiders anywhere near our wedding, I'll have Hermione hex you so bad you can't walk for a week!" grumbled Ron. "She'd do it too, if you ruined her wedding."

"George," huffed Fleur, "zat is so immature. You weel not bring ze spiders to Ron and Hermione's wedding." She turned to Ginny: "You'll see, there is nothing wrong with vol-au-vents. We can plan ze most beautiful wedding for you. Ta Mère, she eez magnifique at the planning, non? Hermione, you will 'elp, non?" Hermione nodded; grateful the attention was off her and Ron. Ginny narrowed her eyes at them.

"You make it sound like I _am_ planning to get married."

"You are not?" enquired Fleur as she turned to look at Harry who felt his face heat up as the attention fell on him. Fleur made an indistinct noise in the back of her throat. "But eet takes months to prepare ze wedding! I was doing ze planning for more zan a year!"

"Yes," shot back Ginny heatedly, "but you didn't start planning until after you got engaged. And that's my point. A dress and somewhere to celebrate doesn't need a year of planning. If you and Mum aren't careful, I'll just elope."

"But ze preparation-"

"I don't need the Burrow to look like a manicured French garden-"

"Oh ze garden gnomes-"

"I _like_ garden gnomes!"

"Oi!" shouted Ron. "D'you two think you might call a truce over a wedding that isn't even on yet?" Bill laid a hand on his wife's arm and she subsided a little. Ginny still looked a little fierce and she glowered at Fleur as she crossed her arms across her chest.

"It's your birthday Ginny," said Hermione sounding a little strained. "Let's not fight." Ginny looked rather sheepishly at the ground.

"Sorry," she mumbled. Fleur reached over and patted her on the arm.

"Eet ees okay, ma chérie," she said as she smoothed Ginny's hair back from her face. "Whatever you plan, eet weel be beautiful, non?"

"You've been rather quiet, Harry," said Bill suddenly. "As Best Man have you any objections to wearing a fantastically orange cravat and eating from specially hollowed out Quaffles on placemats that look like pages from _Hogwarts, a History_?" Hermione made a strangled noise while George laughed.

"How about your wedding, any ideas?" George asked. Harry shrugged.

"I don't know anything about weddings," he said. "I've only ever been to one. I've certainly never thought about mine. You tend not to do that when you don't think you have a future." His words sounded harsh after they'd left his mouth and he saw a few uncomfortable faces. Ron seemed completely at ease. He swallowed the bacon in his mouth before speaking.

"Reckon you've got one now though," he said and grinned cheekily. "I still think the Hogs Head has merit." Harry grinned at him and shook his head.

"Where do you want to get married, Harry?" asked Ginny.

He studied her for a moment, the flashing in the gemstone around her neck matching her hair. She was looking at him as though she was trying to see inside him. He just couldn't picture having an argument with his mother over where to hold his wedding or he and his father being drafted to sort favours and make canapés. As much as Ginny protested Harry knew she would not want to exclude her mother or her sister-in-law from being involved in planning their wedding. Nor stop her family from being there and his heart ached for a moment because his own parents would not be there.

Harry knew that he wouldn't be able to elope, he had no family to be there so he wanted every last Weasley there instead, even Auntie Muriel and her goblin made tiara. Dudley flickered across his mind as he contemplated Ginny's question. Perhaps he would come if they invited him. He became aware that the entire camp seemed to be waiting for his answer and he felt like he needed to give them one.

"I wish my parents could be there," he said instead and Ginny reached out to entwine his fingers with hers, squeezing his hand gently. He looked up at her and smiled. "You could fight with my mum about how many vol-au-vents to make."

"I would have given that my best effort," said Ginny smiling although there were tears in the corners of her eyes. Harry looked down at their entwined hands, studying the scars on the back of his hand and the freckles on the back of hers. Her fingernails were pale pink ovals and there was a faint ink stain on her index finger.

"I want to get married where my parents did," Harry said at last. "It's the closest I can get to having them there." Ginny leaned over and kissed him then, a lone tear falling and Harry wiped it away and pulled her close.

"Well that certainly makes their orange Quidditch wedding sound lame," said George and Hermione threw him a withering look.

"I am _not_ getting married on a Quidditch pitch, George," she said stiffly. "Nor will it be _orange_." George looked ready to argue the point, until he caught sight of Ron who was glaring at him and falling silent, George became intent on spreading his toast with some Vegemite.

"Where did your parents get married, Harry?" asked Ron as he wiped the grease from his plate with a slice of bread. Harry wondered just how healthy that was as he shrugged.

"No idea."

"Well we'll find out," said Ginny firmly. "There must be someone who was there who can tell us."

"I don't know who," said Harry softly. "Sirius was dad's Best Man, Remus would have known, Dumbledore would have known. But who's left?" Hermione looked thoughtful.

"Hagrid," she said suddenly. "Hagrid will know." Harry smiled and tightened his hold on Ginny, running one hand under the hem of her jumper to caress the soft flesh of her stomach. She leaned back into him and closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder and Harry was fascinated by the expression of contentment on her face as he drew lazy circles with his index finger. When George called out a sarcastic comment about 'vomit inducing behaviour' and Ernie told them to get a room and then laughed uproariously at his own joke Harry only lowered his head to kiss Ginny's neck.

"Don't encourage them," said Bill in a strangled voice. Ginny opened her eyes and looked at Bill pointedly. Eventually Bill sighed and looked away.

"I'm going for a walk," said Ginny as she stood up. It was clear she intended Harry to come along for she had not let go of his hand before striding off. Harry hastily put his plate down and followed her mumbling that he would just go with her. It was some time before Ginny spoke; the Roobus was a speck in the distance as Ginny sighed.

"I thought they were okay with us," she said quietly. Harry pulled her into his arms.

"They are," he said as he lowered his head to her neck, kissing her there. "I don't want to watch people going at it all the time and we have been in pretty close quarters the last day or so. Maybe we're getting a bit carried away …" He trailed off, not wanting to really believe that because her lips were currently doing something unbelievable to his neck and he bent swiftly to capture her lips with his own. The two of them did not return to the campsite for at least another half an hour.

When they did return it was to see an unfamiliar backside sticking out from the open compartment on the Roobus. It was accompanied by several swear words and a loud thumping noise interspersed with clanks and clangs. Harry looked to Ron for an explanation.

"That's Uncle Mick," said Ron. "New thought box is here." It seemed as though Uncle Mick was having some trouble installing the new thought box and he suddenly pulled his head abruptly from the compartment, fixing a beady eye on Ernie.

"What you been playing at with the maintenance?" he demanded of Ernie.

"Bert did it."

"Might've known that mess was done by a woman," grumbled Uncle Mick. Bert bristled visibly but didn't say anything, perhaps aware that Uncle Mick's installation of the thought box was their ticket out of the desert. "Well it'll go all right now. You can get back to your civilisation now."

"Thanks, Uncle," said Ernie sincerely but Uncle Mick only grunted in reply. He seemed to notice Harry and Ginny then and a grin stole over his features.

"I'd best be gettin' back," he said. "Make sure you swing in and see your mum before you go Ernie."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Might wanna buy yourselves a paper too," Uncle Mick winked at Harry and Ginny before he Disapparated with a loud crack. They made short work of packing up the campsite and boarding the Roobus. Before long they had arrived back at the Yulara resort to be greeted a short, plump woman who simultaneously managed to scold Ernie for not packing up the tents properly and engulf Bert and Jonathon in a massive hug.

It didn't take them long to offload the camping supplies and after collecting Arkie they found themselves back on the road. The journey to Melbourne was without mishap which was more than could be said for their arrival. Setting the Roobus down in the middle of Swanston Street it jerked chaotically and a loud snapping sound accompanied a flash of yellow light.

"Fair Dinkum, Ernie," said Bert as she sighed heavily. "You've tangled the bus in the tramlines again! Could ya stop doing that?"

"Don't worry about it," said Arkie as he disembarked, "trams get delayed all the time. Muggles're used to it. See you next week Ern." He wandered off down the street and was soon lost in the crowd of Muggles on the footpath.

"What? What's happened?" Hermione asked. Her face was white and she looked panicked. "Is the bus broken again? Are we going to be stuck here now? We're never going to get to my parents are we? We'll be stuck here forever and so will they and the whole trip will have been pointless and a great big disaster-" Ron cut her off.

"Relax Hermione," he said, taking her hand and stroking the back of it. "Nothing's going to stop us from getting to your parents. It's a minor mishap and Ernie knows how to fix it. Don't you Ernie?" Harry could see Ron glare at Ernie as if daring him to say he could not and Ernie merely nodded shortly and got out his wand.

Bert and Ernie spent a good fifteen minutes detangling the Roobus and Hermione's face didn't change, it remained pasty white. As they trouped back onto the bus Bert assured Hermione that they would arrive in Yackandandah by lunchtime. Hermione seemed to relax a little at that but it wasn't long before she began fretting about whether or not her parents would be mad at her for bewitching them.

"Ron," she said, "what if they hate me?" She was fiddling with her wand absently and it started emitting bright purple sparks that she seemed completely unaware of.

"They won't hate you, Hermione," soothed Ron, taking her wand and tucking it into his back pocket. "They love you, they'll be glad to see you."

"Will, they? Do you really think so?" asked Hermione. Ron nodded and put an arm around her.

"Oh, I think I'm going to be sick," she moaned and Ernie brought the bus to a hurried stop. Harry was impressed with the way Ron didn't bat an eyelid, just held Hermione's hair out of her face as she retched on the side of the road. They hadn't gone very far up the road when Hermione began to worry again.

"What if I've botched the charm up so badly I'll never be able to take it off?" she wailed.

"It'll be fine, Hermione," Bill said. "You don't botch things up." He smiled at her but Hermione only stared at him before threatening to be sick again. Ernie brought the Roobus to a screeching halt and while Ron and Harry attempted to calm Hermione down the others went in search of refreshment. They returned with some cakes, pastries and sly grins.

"You lot look like the cat that got the cream," observed Ron as he rubbed a circle on Hermione's back. Ginny grinned at them and thrust a newspaper under Ron's nose.

"There is a wizarding shop back there and look what we found," she said with glee. Ron unfolded the paper and Harry peered over Hermione's shoulder as she read it aloud.

_HARRY POTTER FINDS TRUE LOVE_

_A revealing interview with Harry Potter's closest family and friends was published in London yesterday. _

_Published in the evening edition of _The Quibbler_, a tabloid newspaper that Mr Potter appears to endorse, the article was written by friends of the heroic wizard and includes several revealing photographs taken by the late Mr Colin Creevey, one of Mr Potter's close personal friends._

_Our sources in Britain were unable to be contacted last night, a mysterious note citing incapacity due to bug infestation was the only correspondence received. Contact with _The Quibbler_'s editor however revealed the accuracy of the article. This publication is forced to conclude that certain errors were made in previous reports of Mr Potter's current activities and we apologise to Mr Potter and Miss Weasley for the error. _

"Oh, that's nice of them isn't it?" snorted Ron indelicately. "What did _The Quibbler_ say, Hermione?"

"Continued page six," muttered Hermione as she rifled through the newspaper, opening the page to show a large photograph of Harry and Ginny, kissing in the Gryffindor Common Room, with an inset photo of him and Teddy taken at the Christening. Under it an article, interspersed with photographs of his time at Hogwarts, sporting the headline _POTTER FINDS HIS PRINCESS_ took up the rest of the page. Harry had never seen the picture of him and Ginny before, he realised that Colin must have taken it after they won the Quidditch Cup in sixth year as Ron groaned.

"That was traumatic enough the first time," he complained and Harry slugged him on the shoulder. "Ow, what'd you do that for?"

"What'd you be a git for?"

"Stop it you two," scolded Hermione. She frowned, "the headline's a bit tacky."

"I like it," said Ginny twirling on the spot as if showing off a magnificent ball gown. Harry grinned at her. "I like being a princess." Hermione smiled and began to read the article aloud.

_A visit to a quaint little cottage on the edge of Ottery St. Catchpole in Devon, will lead you to the current home of Britain's newest hero, Harry Potter. In a house brimming with character and love, Mr Potter has found peace with his family. Large gardens, brimming with undiscovered treasures, speak of a place where children once roamed free before traipsing back to the family home for hot drinks and cuddles. Where children's photographs and art line the walls and family means everything. It is in the cramped kitchen that we find Molly Weasley her cauldrons brimming with delicious stews and her heart overflowing with love for her family._

'_Harry was eleven when I first met him,' she tells this reporter. "All skinny arms and knobbly knees-"_

"I don't have skinny arms!" Hermione ignored Harry's outburst and kept reading.

"_-knobbly knees. He was the sweetest, most polite little thing. He's been as good as one of mine since then you know." Molly Weasley looks rather fierce as she says this and the expression on her face cannot be mistaken for anything other than maternal pride. As matriarch of this humble home she is the epitome of motherly love which shows in the way she speaks of each of her children and that includes Harry Potter. His picture hangs on the wall next to the rest of the children and his hand on the family clock rests on 'abroad' with several others of the Weasley offspring_.

"I didn't know you had a hand on the clock, Harry," said Ron. Harry shrugged because he didn't know that either.

"Dad was getting it made before we left, I guess it finally arrived," said Bill. "It was supposed to be there for your birthday, Harry, but it just didn't arrive in time." Hermione cleared her throat pointedly and continued.

_A home as rich in love as this one would find unthinkable the notion that marriages and matches can be made based on monetary concerns. The oldest Weasley child, William, who married former Tri-wizard Champion Fleur Delacour a year ago in this very home, is currently in Australia with Mr Potter and Miss Weasley._

'_Wonderful girl, wonderful,' says Mr Arthur Weasley of his daughter-in-law. "Young Bill couldn't have made a better match. All of the children have made very sensible choices; it doesn't do to interfere with true love.' When questioned, Mr Weasley confirmed that neither he nor his wife had arranged a match for their only daughter. An elderly Aunt of his wife's had attempted to do so but Mr Weasley was most insistent to this reporter that such an action as arranging a marriage was far outside his experiences or intentions._

'_We will be celebrating another marriage in the near future,' he confirmed, but denied that it was his daughter's, citing her return to school and waiting Hogwarts letter as proof."_

"Who's getting married?" exclaimed Ron.

"Hogwarts letters," breathed Hermione.

"Yes, that's great Hermione," said Harry impatiently, "keep reading!"

"_He confirmed that both his daughter and Mr Potter are returning to Hogwarts for the autumn term with no plans for marriage, arranged or otherwise. _

'_Young Ginevra is almost certainly in love with Harry,' adds third oldest Weasley son, Percy. 'The very idea that our parents would interfere with her romantic attachments is laughable. They have similarly refrained from hampering my own activities.' A large diamond ring in evidence on the left ring finger of Mr Weasley's companion, a Miss Penelope Clearwater, gives evidence to his own romantic activities_."

"Percy's getting married?" questioned Ron incredulously. George was grinning with barely suppressed glee. Harry could see him planning various nefarious deeds in light of this revelation. Hermione continued reading.

"_Mr Potter's friends confirm Percy's claim that the liaison between Mr Potter and his only sister is not the result of a post war nuptial agreement, nor does it violate any relationship between he and Miss Hermione Granger. Miss Lavender Brown seems very definite that Miss Granger is in fact going out with Mr Ronald Weasley, the youngest of the Weasley sons and Mr Potter's best friend._

'_She's been sweet on him for ages,' agrees Mr Seamus Finnegan, who has shared a dormitory at Hogwarts with both Mr Potter and Mr Weasley since they were eleven_."

"Oh what rot," huffed Hermione. "He's just making that up, _ages_ indeed. Honestly." Harry and Ginny exchanged a look of amusement over her head and George laughed outright.

"Hermione dear, it's been obvious to the rest of us since you were second years," he chuckled in a fair impression of his mother. "If you two had taken any longer to get on with it I think you might have both self combusted with the effort of holding it in!"

"Piss off," muttered Ron, the tips of his ears as red as Harry had ever seen them. Hermione cleared her throat and continued reading as if to ignore George completely.

"-Seamus Finnegan, who has shared … _'It's always been Hermione and Ron, anyone who thinks Hermione's with Harry needs their head read.' The love lives of Hogwarts students indeed never run smooth but as three young men will attest, Miss Ginevra Weasley has never used a love potion. Mr Neville Longbottom, who himself has recently ended a brief relationship with one of Mr Potter's previous involvements-_"

"I wasn't _involved_ with Parvati!"

"What! Neville and Parvati have split up?"

"Oooh I hope he gets together with Hannah now. He was trying to get up the nerve all last year." Hermione cleared her throat pointedly before continuing.

"Neville says … _Ginny Weasley has been faithful to Mr Potter, despite their separation over the last year._

'_She really loves him, you know?' says Mr Longbottom. 'I took her to a dance once, in fourth year. I think she loved him even then. We're pretty good friends, she certainly never used a potion on me.' This is a sentiment echoed by Mr Michael Corner and Mr Dean Thomas who once went out with the beautiful young woman. Both confirm that they were never slipped a love potion._

'_We heard what happened when Ron was slipped one,' says Mr Thomas. 'There's no way I ever acted like that. Harry doesn't act like that either; he's as in love with her as she is with him.'_

'_It's hard to compete with Harry Potter,' adds Mr Corner. 'They're probably soulmates. He comes first with Ginny. She'll hex you if you suggest otherwise_.'"

"And don't you know that first hand, Corner," murmured Ginny.

"_Speaking to Mr Potter's family and friends it is easy to see that this young hero is surrounded by family and friends who love him, including a beautiful young lady who adores him as much as he adores her. Certainly anyone who was present when they kissed for the first time (pictured right) will attest to that. _

_Mr Potter does have one responsibility however, that of godfather to Teddy Lupin (pictured inset), a four month old who has been left a war orphan as Mr Potter was in the first war. Teddy's grandmother assures us that rather than collecting the spoils of war Harry Potter is simply having the quiet and loving life which he so desperately craved his entire youth. He is lucky enough to have a family more than willing to give it to him. Little Teddy, who is the son of the former Professor Remus Lupin and his Auror wife, Nymphadora Tonks, spends a great deal of time with Mr Potter and by all accounts he dotes on the boy as if he were his father._

'_Harry couldn't be a better godfather,' says Andromeda Tonks, the boy's guardian. 'He's just lovely with him. When he does have his own children he'll be a great dad.' He certainly sounds like a fine catch, ladies but this one just happens to be taken, and according to all sources, he's not going anywhere._

'_Harry means the world to us, like the rest of our boys,' Molly Weasley assures us. 'This is his home.' We at this publication wish Mr Potter all the best for his future plans and remind him to beware of Bunyips while he's Down Under_."

"Well, Luna certainly did a marvellous job," said Hermione briskly as she folded the paper meticulously.

"What's wrong Hermione?"

"Nothing at all, why do you ask, Harry?"

"You've got your irritated face on and you sound all … annoyed."

"I – my what?" asked Hermione, staring at him.

"Your irritated face," repeated Harry. "The one you wear when you think someone's got a fact wrong." Hermione simply stared at him.

"Well, I think Seamus went a little overboard," she started and George snorted.

"Let it go," he said. "Fred had been running a book on it since the end of our fourth year. He knew it would take you two ages to figure it out and he made a killing fleecing everyone who thought it would happen in the near future."

"I can't believe you ran a book on that!"

"I didn't, Ronald. Fred did." Ron merely snorted and muttered that it amounted to the same thing.

"I merely had a bet for next year," answered George cheekily.

"I had last year," said Ginny, settling herself in Harry's lap. "He cleaned me out." Harry grew tired of discussing Ron and Hermione's love life and while they and George argued good naturedly, Harry slid his arms around Ginny's waist and nuzzled his face into her neck, finding a soft patch of skin behind her ear and kissing it softly. Ginny arched her neck in response and Harry responded to the unspoken request by kissing down the length of her neck to her shoulder. Bringing his mouth back up to her ear he kissed it before whispering to her.

"Hello Princess."

Ginny giggled before turning her head to look at him. Possibly she was about to say something but Harry wasn't interested in anything she had to say right then and he kissed her instead. He didn't have time to get lost in her though because Hermione suddenly stood up.

"All right, let's go," she announced. She pulled on Ron's arm and swatted Harry on the shoulder. "Hurry up!" Hermione grabbed Ginny's arm and tugged her onto the bus and Harry followed swiftly, not wishing to incur Hermione's wrath. They settled down in their seats and Ernie took off, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.

"I miss home," said Ron suddenly. "I mean it's great here but reading that in the paper … I miss home, y'know?"

Harry nodded and held his hand out for the paper. Opening it he turned to the page with the picture of Teddy on it. Staring at the picture of the baby he reached out a finger to trace the outline of his little face.

"Do you miss Teddy?" asked Ginny softly.

"Not until just now," replied Harry softly. "I want to go home … and see Teddy."

"I want to go and get my Hogwarts letter," said Hermione.

"Let's get what we came for, and then you can go home," said Bill smiling. It seemed they had not been on the Roobus for more than a few minutes when Ernie brought it to a screeching halt in the middle of a wide street lined with shops.

"Welcome to beautiful downtown Yackandandah," said Jonathon with a grin. Harry and Ginny clambered off the bus, followed closely by the rest of the family and stood looking around at the small town.

"Well, I guess we'd better find somewhere to stay," said Hermione, sounding a little unsure. Jonathon, who was standing next to her, reached out to put a hand on her shoulder.

"You'll be all right, Hermione," he said. "There's bound to be a Bed and Breakfast here somewhere and you'll find your parents and be able to take them home before you know it. Give us a yell when you've sorted it out and we'll come and get youse." Hermione smiled at him.

"Thanks for everything," she said, the others echoing her. "It's been an adventure."

"Okay, well, not too many more then," said Bert as she climbed back onto the Roobus. "Time to get back to your own life I reckon." Harry watched as the bus took off, Bert and Jonathon hanging from the back, waving madly and thought that it was high time he got back to his life and he couldn't wait.

***************************

Finding a place to stay wasn't difficult. It might have been peak tourist season in the middle of nowhere but seasons were different further south and north eastern Victoria was pretty chilly. There was plenty of room at a cosy Bed and Breakfast on the main street and the proprietor happily shared with them all she knew about the town's new dentists. They had a small practice a few doors down the street and were a very nice couple. Harry could see Hermione itching to bolt out the door while the old lady who ran the establishment blathered on and on about nothing relevant that he could discern.

"Oh yes and she makes the most wonderful scones, Dr Wilkins. You really must try some of Mavis's though, hers are better, more buttery," said the old lady, who's name was Doris. "I put sponges in the show myself. Nothing beats a good sponge. You will be here for afternoon tea, won't you? I expect you'd like to sample some of my sponge. It's award winning you know. Of course I can get some of Mavis's scones if you'd really like to try them. You'll see, you won't be able to resist them."

"Yes, well we'd best be off for some lunch," said Bill as he edged towards the door. "Thank you so much and we'll see you back here later." Doris muttered something cheerfully as she shuffled off in the direction of what Harry assumed was her formidable kitchen, designed to produce forty different types of cakes and pastries with which to lure unsuspecting passers by.

Once outside the group decided to split up. Bill and Hermione went alone to ascertain what, if any, problems they might encounter while the rest of them went for a walk. Harry and Ginny trailed after George and Ron as they all ate sandwiches purchased from a small sandwich shop and took a walk along a hiking trail that they found. Fleur complained the entire time about the smells, the sounds and the fact that she was sure some evil little bush creature was watching them. Afternoon tea back at the Bed and Breakfast with Mavis's scones and the 'best sponge cake in the district' was a subdued affair as they waited for Hermione and Bill to return.

Hermione was smiling when they did return and revealed that they had met with her parents as representatives regarding their inheritance and Bill discovered that the charm on them would be fairly easy to reverse but might take some time and concentration so it had best wait until an appointment they had set up for the next day. George suggested that they celebrate Ginny's coming of age in style at the local pub. The birthday celebrations went off without a hitch despite stale cake and Ron's fascination with the television over the bar, but the next morning wasn't as successful.

It had started out well enough; Hermione had greeted her parents and politely explained she was there about there about the inheritance matter. The rest of them were supposed to wait down the street.

Harry really didn't think it was Ron's fault that he managed to get stung by a Billywig and levitated down the road right in front of Hermione's unobliviated parents.

Nor was it George's fault that he actually felled the gum tree in which Ron had anchored himself. Anyone can make a simple mistake with spell pronunciation.

It certainly wasn't Ginny's fault that the spell she cast to cushion the impact conjured an incredibly large purple cushion in the front yard of the dental surgery, that could happen to anyone.

It definitely wasn't Harry's fault that he didn't know how to deal with the Aurors sent by the Australian Ministry to sort out the problem who were young, female and rather taken with him. Anyone could have understood Ginny's pressing need to send a _Densaugeo _hex their way.

By the time a Healer had been summoned to fix the teeth, a team of wizards had Obliviated all the Muggles who had seen the giant purple cushion and a witch with expertise in fixing magical accidents had put the gum tree back it was mid afternoon.

Hermione's parents had barricaded themselves in their surgery. Hermione was reluctant to frighten them any further by breaking in using magic and Ron was still floating six feet above the ground, now surrounded by several charms to make him completely unnoticeable by the Muggles. Hermione was sitting dispiritedly on the low stone wall in front of her parent's surgery and three Ministry wizards were filling out paperwork in triplicate on clipboards.

"Hermione, let me go and talk to them," said Bill, squatting in front of the younger witch. He picked up her hands which had been twisting the hem of her jumper mercilessly. Harry was struck with how tender Bill was with her. It reminded him of how Bill had calmed him in the early days following the battle at Hogwarts. Harry realised that this was how Bill was with all his younger siblings and it meant that he and Hermione had been taken into the Weasley family wholeheartedly and not just by Molly and Arthur.

"It was supposed to be quick and simple and easy," wailed Hermione. "It wasn't supposed to be a big mess like this!" Harry could see Ron trying to swim through the air in an effort to get down to Hermione but he was wholly unsuccessful and gave up, crossing his arms across his chest and hanging helplessly in mid air. Bill smiled.

"When has anything you've done with these two been simple?" he indicated Ron and Harry. "Don't worry we'll get it sorted out. Please, let me go and talk to them." Hermione looked at him sadly.

"Don't scare them," she said. "They looked really scared."

She burst into tears and Harry went to her and pulled her into a hug. He looked up at Ron as Hermione cried into his chest. The look on Ron's face was pure frustration and Harry felt utterly helpless. Bill strode off towards the old house into which the dental surgery had been built and, unlocking the door with a simple _Alohamora_ he, entered in the front door, closing it behind him.

"Don't worry 'ermione, 'e weel fix eet," said Fleur as Hermione straightened up and stared at the door of the house. Harry kept his arms around her and she made no move to extricate herself, perhaps she needed the comfort and to his own surprise Harry found himself quite willing and able to give it. He listened with half an ear to Ginny and George being questioned rather heavily by some Ministry wizards over the spells they had managed to completely botch in spectacular fashion.

"You do realise the seriousness of this event, Mr Weasley?" a rather harassed looking official said gravely. George nodded solemnly.

"Oh, yes," he assured the Australian wizard. "It was a most unfortunate incident that will never happen again. I do assure you of that sir."

"We can't have half competent witches and wizards running about the countryside doing whatever they please to poor unsuspecting Muggles you know!" said a second official who was wearing a rather odd combination of a kilt and a leather jacket. Harry thought that the official was much more likely to make Muggles question things than George's tree felling spell would.

"No, no, absolutely not, I quite understand," murmured George, sounding incredibly sincere. The wizard in the kilt did not notice George slip something into his pocket as he walked away to finish filling in his paperwork.

"Miss Weasley," simpered a squat witch who reminded Harry uncomfortably of Umbridge. "You are of age dear, but perhaps you'd best wait until you get home before attempting any more … magic." The witch thrust a piece of paper at Ginny and smiling in a very disconcerting manner, marched off to consult with her colleagues. Bill came back out of the house as Ginny made a noise of disgust.

"It's not fair," said Ginny. "I just got legal and now I'm not allowed to do any magic!" She showed Harry the piece of paper she had been given. It said Ginny was not permitted to perform magic in Australia except in Origin Alley so she didn't disturb the Muggles. George leaned over to read it and let out a low whistle.

"Well if you're going to conjure giant purple cushions-"

"Oh, yes I do that all the time! Honestly if you hadn't felled that tree-"

"Oh so your stupid spell is my fault now?"

"Well, if the robe fits, George-"

"Just stop it!" bellowed Ron from mid air. "Stop upsetting Hermione!" He looked fierce and incongruous all at the same time and Harry found it hard not to laugh. Hermione had begun crying again and Harry patted her gently on the back while Ginny and George murmured their apologies. Bill shook his head.

"They're willing to listen to you now," he said to Hermione, holding out his hand. "Come on." Hermione stood there contemplating Bill's outstretched hand. Eventually she put her hand in his as if clutching at a lifeline and followed him inside. Harry watched them go and stood staring at the closed door. He felt Ginny's hand slip into his.

"She'll be all right, Harry," said Ginny. Harry smiled at her and squeezed her hand but did not say anything. Bill emerged from the front door a short time later.

"Well?" Harry questioned him. Bill smiled wearily.

"We've reversed the charm," he said. "Hermione got stuck but we managed to fix it. I made my excuses and left them to their reunion." Fleur got up and threw her arms around her husband.

"Oh you are so clever," she gushed before kissing him soundly. George groaned and Ginny made a gagging noise. Bill surfaced from the kiss and glared at Ginny.

"You can talk," he grumbled before returning to the kiss.

"Oi!" Ron's disembodied voice floated down. "I'm getting hungry!"

*****************************

It seemed that Ron was particularly susceptible to Billywig stings. Bill managed to conjure a rope and tow him back to the Bed and Breakfast where he floated in the corner all night like an overgrown kite. Hermione stayed the night with her parents, promising to come and see them all in the morning and Ginny, perhaps not wanting to be alone, had crept into the boys' room some time during the night and commandeered Ron's bed. When Harry awoke to the sound of absurdly loud squawking birds, he could smell her and eyes still half shut, he padded over to the bed, climbing in and wrapping her in his arms before falling back asleep. It was to a much louder squawking that he awoke the second time.

"What does he think he's playing at?"

"Oh leave them alone!"

"I think you can see that nothing's going on."

"Deed 'er birthday mean nothing to you? 'E weel look after 'er, non?"

"Well mum would find this information interesting!"

"Your muzzer cannot say anyzing, she ees of age!"

"I can't believe you are on her side!"

"We are women; we do not take ze side of ze men!"

"Face it; she'd be in his bed in a flash. Why can't it go both ways?"

"Because … because … he's supposed to be the noble one!"

"Would you four just shut up?" hissed Harry. "You'll wake Ginny if you're not careful. Besides, between you lot and those ridiculous birds making that horrible noise, even in the middle of the night, I haven't had much sleep."

"But you're in bed with Ginny!" protested Bill.

"Yes, and I'm wearing clothes. You tell her we can't. Be my guest," smirked Harry as he snuggled further into the covers. The air was chilly and the old house clearly did not have central heating. Ginny sighed in her sleep and snuggled closer to his chest as he closed his eyes. The truth was he had no intention of sleeping just now but he wasn't about to let a good opportunity to hold and caress Ginny get away. He heard the others leave the room, Ron grumbling as he hit his head on the lintel. He'd still not stopped levitating but at least he was no longer floating as high. Harry stayed in the bed, holding Ginny until she woke up. A slow smile spread across her face when she realised Harry was snuggled next to her drawing patterns on her back and thigh with his fingertips and she turned her face up to him, an unspoken question on her face. Harry leaned down to kiss her softly.

"Just making it up to you," he said softly and Ginny smiled. The two of them lay in the bed, feet entwined, bodies pressed against each other as they kissed each other softly. Ron stomped back into the room a few minutes later with a strange squishing sound and sat heavily on Harry's bed.

Apparently Ron had stopped levitating rather suddenly and managed to slam into the table in the dining room and now had a jug of orange juice in his shoes. He'd kept out of Doris's way and she hadn't seen the mishap but George had to wear the responsibility of spilling the juice and breaking her best glass jug because as far as she was concerned Ron was still in bed and certainly not floating three feet above her dining room table.

"At least I can eat properly now," Ron grumbled as he cleaned and dried his trainers with his wand. "You've no idea just how hard it is to grab bacon when you keep bouncing off the ceiling."

"It's all about food with you, isn't it Ron?" asked Ginny from her supine position in Harry's arms.

"Not everything!" Ron defended. "Are you two going to get up and have some breakfast or are you trying to get Bill riled up?"

"What's his problem?" demanded Ginny sitting up abruptly. Ron shrugged.

"I dunno, he sounded okay with everything yesterday," he said. "Maybe he just doesn't like seeing it?"

"Seeing what?"

"That," muttered Ron waving at them randomly again. "The lovey dovey stuff." Ginny snorted.

"Oh he can talk," she said snidely. "He used to let Fleur feed him while she sat on his _lap_!"

"Why don't you ask him what his problem is, Ginny," said Ron, standing up. "I don't care what you do, sort it out with Bill." Ginny turned to Harry as Ron walked towards the door.

"Did you hear that he doesn't care what we do," she said, smiling lasciviously. Harry gulped and Ron turned around abruptly.

"I don't want to know what you do either," he said, shuddering as he went out and closed the door behind him. Ginny fell back into the bed giggling but Harry didn't find it very funny at all. Bill had been giving him odd looks for days and he didn't know why and now it seemed as though Bill wasn't as okay with things between him and Ginny as he'd thought. As much as he didn't want to he decided he'd better have a talk with Bill. Absently he summoned his glasses and climbed out of the bed. Ginny caught at his hand as he did so.

"What's up?" she asked softly. Harry looked down at her and smiled.

"Nothing, just hungry," he said. "I'm going to get dressed and go in for breakfast." He rummaged in his bag and pulled out some clothes. Turning around he noticed that Ginny was lying on her side, in the bed, her head propped up on her hand, watching him.

"I'm going to get dressed now."

"I know."

"You can't watch!"

"Why not?"

"Because – because … well it's …" Harry trailed off. He had no good reason why she couldn't watch so he sighed and pulled his pyjama top over his head and put his t-shirt and jumper on. Next he put his socks on, putting off the inevitable. When his socks were the straightest they had ever been, meticulously adjusted inch by inch he eyed his boxers and jeans warily. There was nothing for it; he would have to just do it. Sighing and blushing furiously, his hands went to the waistband of his pyjama pants and he was about to pull them off when Ginny leapt from the bed and headed for the door.

"I'll see you at breakfast," she squeaked at him before she scuttled out the door and closed it behind her with a loud click. Harry laughed, realising he had called her bluff. As he headed to the dining room for breakfast his thoughts soon turned to Bill as he wondered what the other man was thinking. If you'd asked Harry a few days ago if Bill approved of him going out with Ginny he'd have thought Bill did but now it seemed to be the opposite. Thoughts were swirling through his head as he sat down at the dining table, nodding good morning absently. He ate mechanically and only acknowledged Ginny briefly when she sat down next to him a few minutes later. By the end of breakfast Harry was none the wiser about Bill and had no clear idea about how to approach him.

***********************

Hermione and her parents came to the Bed and Breakfast later that morning while Ron was complaining over a Muggle chess set in Doris's spacious living room. He had been unable to beat either Ginny or George who were now engrossed in a ridiculous cooking show on the television in the corner. Bill and Fleur had gone for a walk and returned with red noses and freezing finger tips. They now stood huddled in front of the fire that Harry had been staring into for the better part of an hour. It was cold in country Victoria and Doris favoured a real fire during winter. Harry was glad. It felt familiar to stare into the flickering flames and think. Ginny was tucked up at his side and he had one arm draped around her, idly playing with the ends of her hair. Harry didn't look up when Hermione entered; he was too busy thinking about what it would be like to be home and in familiar surroundings again.

"Well, everything's settled," Hermione's voice broke though his thoughts and Harry looked up to see Hermione and her parents standing in the middle of the room. "We went to find a cocky this morning and sent it to Bert and Ernie. Mum and Dad are as anxious to get home as we all are now that they remember who they are. Hopefully the Roobus will pick us up sometime on Friday."

Harry looked at Mr and Mrs Granger who looked more tanned and more relaxed than he had seen them before. He listened with half an ear to their account of the past year and Hermione's explanations that they'd have to find a new place to live once they got home but it was clear now that their memories had been restored Hermione's parents were very eager to get back home.

"So I'm going to help pack," said Hermione after a brief lull in the conversation. "Er, does anyone want to come and help?" Ron volunteered immediately and Fleur agreed shortly afterwards. Harry said nothing as George and Ginny agreed to come as well.

"Harry?" Ginny asked expectantly. "Are you going to come?" Before Harry could answer, Bill spoke.

"I think Harry and I should do the packing here."

Harry looked up at Bill, startled but the older man only smiled at him so he nodded. Ginny looked between the two of them before kissing Harry softly on the cheek and following Hermione out the door. Harry started to get up immediately but Bill put out a hand to stop him.

"Harry, can we talk?" Bill asked quietly. Harry nodded, unsure what this meant. He sat uneasily in his seat, watching the fire and waited for Bill to speak.

"Fleur told me that Ginny's in love with you," he said eventually. Harry looked up at Bill who was standing and staring out of the window. "I knew she had a crush on you but I had no idea that she was so … serious about you. I want to think you are as serious about her but I'm just not sure." Harry watched Bill as he pushed his hands into his pockets and turned around to face Harry.

"But Tuesday-" started Harry.

"It was her birthday, I said what she wanted to hear," said Bill roughly. "I was surprised when you and George and Ron seemed to all be on the same page. So I spoke to George last night. He said you're in love with her." Harry only nodded.

"For how long?" asked Bill abruptly, "six months, a year?" Harry looked Bill directly in the eye.

"Forever," he said. Bill held his gaze for what felt like hours.

"She's my baby sister," said the older man quietly. "Watching you two lately … how serious it all seems … how quickly it's all moving. I used to tell her stories you know, stories about you, when she was little. She used to tell me she was going to marry you one day. But it was kid stuff, a little girl's dreams. I watched her talking to you about getting married. I couldn't bear for her dreams to be shattered when you've decided you've had enough."

Harry sat silently watching the flames. He didn't know how to convince Bill that he wasn't playing with Ginny's feelings.

"Ron and George trust you," said Bill suddenly. "That's good enough for me."

Harry looked up. He could see that Bill wasn't telling the whole truth. It was nearly good enough, but not quite. Harry was entirely unsure how to convince Bill but things seemed less strained between them now and they worked together mostly in silence to pack up the belongings that had been scattered during their brief stay.

Hermione received a cocky from Bert late that night saying that Ernie and Jonathon would pick them up the following afternoon, which was Friday, and enclosed a piece of parchment inviting all of them to The Dripping Bucket on Saturday afternoon for the wedding. Hermione sent back their acceptance and a Portkey booking for Sunday. Bill and Fleur having decided they'd squashed quite enough adventure into their trip and that they'd spend the remainder of their honeymoon at home in their own little cottage, were going to accompany the others home. It was with a sense of relief that the little group retired that night, they'd be going home soon and there really was no place like home.


	22. Chapter 22

**22. Return to Old Blighty**

Arriving back at the hotel in Origin Alley late on Friday, Harry had been relieved to find Ashley and her band of giggling girls were gone. Harry and Ginny went shopping the next morning with Ron and Hermione to get a wedding gift for Bert and Jonathon, finally settling on a huge frying pan and egg flip for Jonathon's cooked breakfasts and a set of dishes for Bert's cereal. At the Post Office Ginny discovered that Percy had sent the paperwork for Dora along with a written lecture on the importance of caring for one's pets. Ginny grumbled over the missive.

"Git," she muttered after folding the parchment into a precise square. "I have a pet already and he thinks I am going to kill this one? Mental." She and Harry left Ron trying to convince Hermione to come into the sports shop whilst they went to arrange to collect Dora from Seth the next day when their return Portkey had been scheduled.

They arrived promptly for Bert and Jonathon's wedding and were ushered into a large upstairs room by Gavin the barman. Bert was wearing a simple red dress and greeted the group enthusiastically.

"It's heaps good that you could come," she said, waving her bouquet around enthusiastically. Jonathon wandered over and, slipping an arm around Bert, shook hands all round. Hermione frowned.

"It's traditional not to see her until the ceremony," she said. "Is the ceremony going to be … here?" Bert laughed.

"We're not the traditional type are we?" she said. Fleur just shook her head as Ernie's magnified voice rang through the room.

"Gather 'round you lot; wedding's about to start!" Jonathon led Bert over to where Ernie was waiting near the window and the guests crowded around them as an old wizard began the ceremony. Harry realised with a start that it was Old Seth and that he had done something … interesting with his hair. The way it was plastered down on either side of his head and tied back reminded him fondly of Hagrid. Bert and Jonathon stood in front of Old Seth, their friends gathered around, holding hands and looking at each other as if they were the only two people in the room. Harry looked at Ginny who was watching them with a far away look on her face.

The ceremony was not long, nor was it overly flowery. Seth launched straight into the vows. Harry watched Ginny smile softly as Jonathon repeated his vows.

"Do you, Alberta," intoned Seth, and Bert grimaced. "Do you take this man-"

"What d'you think we're here for?" Bert answered cheekily. "Course I do." The assembled guests laughed, except Fleur, who'd pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. Old Seth pronounced Bert and Jonathon bonded for life and they kissed enthusiastically to a chorus of catcalls and whistles.

"Let's get this party started!" called Ernie, in a clear effort to break them apart and food appeared on the tables lining the walls and trays of drinks began floating around. Handing Ginny a drink, Harry pulled her down into the chair next to him as they watched Bert and Jonathon dance. Ginny gave him a strange look before she fixed her eyes on Bert and Jonathon twirling on the dance floor and sipped at the drink. Harry got the distinct impression he'd thwarted her attempts to sit on his lap, but Bill was watching him so he didn't say anything about it and he courteously got her a dessert and then sat and ate his own, not sharing a plate as they had become accustomed to doing.

Harry insisted on trading partners with Ron twice during the dancing, during which he held Ginny almost at arm's length until George came up to them a little drunkenly and forced them together by draping his arms around their necks and declaring his love for them, before being dragged off to dance by a stately blonde who was probably the incredible face-sucking Amy. They gorged themselves on mountains of food and plenty of drinks and Hermione and Fleur had to concede that a good wedding didn't have to have menus and planning and colour matching.

"This is rather fun, isn't it?" said Hermione in a giggly voice as Ron, perhaps loosened by drink, twirled her flamboyantly around the dance floor. Harry danced stiffly with Ginny, who seemed resigned to his behaviour and had stopped trying to get closer to him. Harry felt like something was missing, but he was determined to prove to Bill that he could be trusted with his sister's honour and her heart.

"Brilliant party," Ron added, "but I'm telling you, Jonathon is in a whole heap of trouble for not recommending these Lolly Gobble Bliss Bomb things earlier!" He shoved a handful of the caramel covered popcorn into his mouth as he watched George, who was declaring his love for a witch in a painting, two light fittings and a pot plant.

"He might have daft planning ideas, but he livens up a party doesn't he?" said Ron, as he twirled a giggling Hermione away. George had been particularly lively that evening but Harry was unsure how much of that was actually George, how much of it was alcohol and how much of it was Ernie, who had proved to be quite the prankster when he and George turned the bridal party blue moments into the first dance.

The evening was winding down when Harry was pushed into the middle of the floor with Ron by Bert and Jonathon during a ridiculous Muggle custom involving Jonathon flinging Bert's garter around the room after removing it from her leg. The garter landed on his head despite his efforts to avoid it.

"Look who's gettin' hitched next!" crowed Ernie as Harry, blushing furiously, grabbed at it and pulled it off his head.

"Natural Seeker's reflexes," slurred George, throwing an arm around Harry. Bill frowned at the scrap of lace and elastic in Harry's hand. He hurriedly stuffed it into George's shirt pocket to get rid of it as a giggling Hermione dragged a reluctant Ginny into the middle of the room. Despite her best efforts to avoid it, Ginny caught Bert's bouquet.

"Oh look, you're also getting married next," giggled Hermione, as Ginny stood scowling at the bouquet in her hands.

"Isn't that sweet," said Ron and Harry glowered at him. Ginny put the bouquet down on the table and backed away from it as if it were on fire.

"You're getting married! You're getting married!" chanted George in a singsong voice as he pranced around the room, waving his wand dangerously. Ernie grabbed his arm and began whispering furiously in his ear. Within moments they had simultaneously conjured two enormous flashing arrows that floated in the air above Harry and Ginny's heads, _'NEXT TO GET HITCHED'_ engraved on them. Bill was frowning again but Harry wasn't sure what he was supposed to do about what was apparently a coincidence. He glanced up at the arrow and stalked away from it but found that it was still right there above his head when he got to the bar in the corner. He noted with some amusement that Ginny's arrow was having trouble keeping up with her as she darted between guests, her wand outstretched, trying to get a clear shot at a laughing George. Harry caught Ginny's eye and motioned towards the door with his head. Ginny ginned at him and darted between several guests to stand in the doorway while Harry wandered casually up to George who was cowering behind a potted fern.

"Say George, how about I sneak you out of here?" he whispered conspiratorily. George nodded fervently. "Get rid of the arrow."

"Okay, just keep me away from Ginny," muttered George.

"Let's go outside, she won't find you there," said Harry. "I'll distract her and you can come back in." His feint worked perfectly. George ran straight into Ginny, who was lurking in the doorway.

"Take the arrow off, George, and I'll let you keep your other ear," she smirked. Defeated, George agreed. The three wandered back into the wedding celebrations and Harry sat heavily in a chair and sighed.

He was taken by surprise when Ginny sat on his lap, draped her arms around his neck and kissed him. It took all of his resolve not to press her body to his and run his fingers up into her hair. Bill grunted at Harry's show of restraint. A few days ago Bill would have been encouraging him to take advantage of the situation. Ginny pulled away and gave him an odd look and he smiled at her reassuringly. She didn't seem all that reassured, sighing heavily and turning to Bill, who was watching Fleur talk animatedly to Hermione. Ginny wrinkled her nose at him. There was a gleam in Bill's eye as he watched his wife hungrily.

"Can you not lust after your wife like that in public, thanks?" she said as she stood up and elbowed Bill in the ribs.

"I stop when you do," Bill shot back. Ginny looked at him askance.

"What are you on about?"

"If you look at Potter like that, why can't I look at Fleur like that?" Bill whispered furiously. "If it's good enough for you, it's good enough for me and at least I'm married!"

Harry noticed that Bill had dropped the use of his first name. At the same time a corner of his brain was screaming at him that Ginny looked at him as if she wanted him and that could only be a good thing. As Ginny and Bill held a furious conversation conducted in undertones, Harry realised that if Bill only saw that, perhaps he wasn't able to really see how he felt about Ginny. Harry hadn't been aware Ginny was looking at him like she wanted to 'throw him on the table then and there'. He thought Bill might be slightly exaggerating about that however. If Ginny was looking at him like that, he suddenly thought in horror, what was written on his own face half the time?

"Oh for heaven's sake, Bill," hissed Ginny, rousing Harry from his thoughts. "I'm seventeen, quite capable of having a – a one night stand if I wanted to and you can't say anything about it. You certainly can't say anything about my … status with my boyfriend!"

"Oh and what is your … status, Ginny?"

"With respect, that's none of your business," interrupted Harry.

Bill narrowed his eyes at Harry but did not get a chance to respond because Ernie announced that Bert and Jonathon were leaving on their honeymoon and the guests were required to see them off. Perhaps Jonathon was watching George more than anyone realised because he tucked a vial of hangover potion into Hermione's hand as he and Bert bid them all goodbye.

"It's been ace getting to know ya," said Bert as she hugged Hermione. "Have a good trip home Mr and Mrs G!" Hermione's parents nodded and smiled as they bid farewell to the couple. Jonathon shook hands with Harry and Ron before turning to George.

"Take care, mate," he said, pulling George into a hug. "Send me a Cocky – an Owl, whatever you send to get a letter here, y'know if you need anything." George nodded mutely and hugged Jonathon back.

"Well I hope youse enjoyed ya stay here," said Jonathon to the group at large. "Back to Old Blighty for you lot now, hey? 'Ave a good trip!" Then Jonathon and Bert were swallowed up in the crowd of their friends as they made their way to the door. The last Harry saw of them Ernie and George were pelting them with rose petals as they ran laughing into the upstairs corridor to the Dripping Bucket and headed downstairs. The party continued long after the newlyweds had left. Ron and Harry found George much later, in a corner, swearing undying allegiance to Gavin the barman and it took both of them to get George back to the hotel to sleep it off.

*********

When Harry crashed into Ron, toppling them in a tangled heap on top of Stoatshead Hill, he pondered briefly why they had still not got any better at Portkey travel. He conceded that Ginny's decision to have Fleur carry Dora was a wise one. Fleur was standing solidly next to the abandoned Portkey but Ginny looked as though the air had been knocked out of her. George had stumbled on the landing and was now merrily somersaulting down the hill on purpose. Mr and Mrs Granger simply looked terrified. Hermione and Bill had managed near perfect Portkey landings and were organizing the bags and deciding who would Apparate her parents back to the Burrow.

They had left a rather cold and damp Sydney night and arrived on what promised to be a glorious summer's day and Harry stripped off his jumper before accepting his bag and Ginny's. Mrs Granger jumped as a loud crack heralded George's arrival back to the top of the hill.

"George! Stop doing that!" scolded Hermione as she shoved his bag at him. "You know it startles my mother!" George looked sheepish.

"Sorry Mrs G," he said as he hoisted the bag on his shoulder before Disapparating with an equally loud crack. Hermione shook her head at the empty space where he had been.

"I bet that git's gone to scoff breakfast," grumbled Ron as he hauled himself to his feet.

"Ron, we just had dinner!"

"So?" Ron followed George with an echoing pop. Hermione shook her head as she began Banishing the shrunken boxes containing her parents' belongings. Harry assumed she was sending them to The Burrow and he wondered if they were all going to fit in the old house. He slowly got to his feet and hoisted his and Ginny's bags onto his back.

"How come these are heavier than they were when we left?" he complained.

"Bags are always heavier when you come back from a trip," said Mr Granger genially. "I'm really not sure how it happens but it is fascinating." Harry nodded politely, trying not to laugh as he caught Ginny's eye.

"Right, are we all ready to go then?" asked Bill, the pile of boxes now gone. Taking Mr Granger's arm, he Disapparated with him and Hermione did the same with her mother. Fleur, grasping Dora's carrier, smiled and said she'd see them at home and she too was gone. Harry and Ginny stood alone on top of Stoatshead Hill. Holding out a hand to her, Harry expected Ginny to let him Apparate her home but she only grinned at him and took off down the hill, her hair flying in her wake. Harry called to her but she didn't answer so he followed her. Halfway down the hill he caught up to her and, grabbing her arm, he pulled her to him. She was laughing heartily and Harry joined in as he flopped breathlessly to the ground, bringing her crashing down on top of him.

"What game are you playing, Miss Weasley?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm not playing games, Harry," she said. "It was just that we're alone and I didn't want to go straight home. I just wanted you all to myself for a little while." Harry smiled as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"You want to walk home?" he asked. "It's a nice long walk … all alone." Ginny smiled and, taking out her wand, Banished their bags and clambered to her feet. She held out a hand to Harry and he stood up, wrapping his arms around her for a quick kiss before they ambled home to The Burrow.

They wandered along a narrow path that wound past a small stream. It merrily danced and rippled over rocks and stones. Ginny gathered flowers along the edge of the stream and gave them to Harry to carry so that she could weave herself an elaborate floral ensemble as they walked.

"I used to do this all the time when I was a little girl," she said, as she concentrated on linking two daisies together and joining them to a longer chain draped around Harry's neck. "Bill used to help me when he was home from Hogwarts. When I got tired he'd put me up on his back and carry me home. He let me make him all sorts of flowery jewellery." She paused as she joined up the daisy chain she had been creating and draped it over her own shoulders before starting on a circlet for her head.

"One day he helped me weave the most beautiful veil of flowers for my hair," she paused and looked at Harry thoughtfully. "I told him it was a bridal veil and that I was going to marry a noble hero who would come and rescue me from a big monster." She looked back at the flowers in her hands and added some more to the circlet.

"Of course, at the time, I thought Ron was a big monster," she grinned and Harry laughed.

"Did your noble hero have a noble steed?" asked Harry. "All the Muggle fairytales have the hero ride in on horseback, a white horse usually."

"Oh no," Ginny said. "My noble hero had a noble steed but it wasn't a horse. He was going to have a dragon. All noble heroes ride dragons."

"Of course." Harry picked a stray flower from the side of the path and tucked it behind her ear.

"Bill let me pretend he was a horse though," said Ginny wistfully. "Sometimes he'd be the noble hero. He used to make up stories for us to play act."

"He said he used to tell you stories," mused Harry as he picked up a long stick and trailed it in the water. Ginny looked at him sideways.

"Is that the big secret he wanted to share with you the other day?"

"What?" Harry looked at her, startled.

"When he made the big production of you two packing," Ginny explained. "He wanted to talk to you." Harry nodded as he scooped up a handful of smooth pebbles from the bank of the stream. He threw them into the water, each one making a satisfying splashing sound as it fell.

"He was asking my intentions," said Harry.

"He was what?"

"Asking my intentions," repeated Harry, throwing the last stone into the stream.

"Your intentions?" asked Ginny slowly. "Who does he think he is?" Harry looked up at her tone; she appeared livid. Harry shrugged.

"He was concerned we're moving too fast and that maybe I won't stick around as long as you want me to." Ginny said nothing but her back was ramrod straight and she'd stopped ambling along slowly and was starting to stomp menacingly along the little winding path. Harry could see the top of The Burrow's tallest chimney in the distance; they were nearly home. He hurried up to Ginny, putting a hand on her arm.

"I think I am old enough to figure out my own relationships," said Ginny icily, she paused. "That's why you've been avoiding me!" She rounded on Harry then and he took a step back.

"I have not," he said weakly. But she was right, he had been avoiding her. Not that he'd refused to see her but he had stopped touching her as often since his talk with Bill. Bert and Jonathon's wedding had been torturous. He had been unable to shake the feeling that Bill was watching him and spent the day self consciously second guessing every interaction with Ginny. Harry had wanted nothing more than to simply hold Ginny but he'd only held her hand for most of the day. Harry was roused from contemplation of the day before when Ginny stopped in front of him. They were not far from The Burrow's gate and wouldn't be alone much longer. He looked up at her and her eyes were searching his intently.

"I've missed you," she said quietly and Harry's heart broke in two at the sadness in her voice. He had missed her as well. He'd missed holding her in his arms, missed kissing her neck, and missed tangling his fingers in her hair. Whatever Bill's problem was, he'd have to get over it, decided Harry as he reached for Ginny and kissed her. Her fingers went up his arms, across his shoulders and into his hair and his arms snaked their way around her waist, pulling her as close as he could get her. As if releasing all the pent up emotions from the last three days Ginny all but attacked him as she kissed him hard and then made her way down his neck. Harry returned the favour gladly, pulling away only when he heard some familiar deep voices. Ginny's brothers must have come to find them.

"Well, they are taking their bloody time, aren't they?" Bill's voice floated through the trees still screening them from The Burrow.

"Oh gee, I wonder why!"

"Surely not the fact that you've been keeping a beady eye on them for three days straight," said George, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

"That was very responsible of you, Bill." Percy was there too, Harry groaned mentally.

"It's no wonder they want some time alone."

"Don't you think it's all a bit fast?"

"No, I don't," Ron's voice was getting closer. "I don't call two years fast. You know as well as I do that being apart last year was torture for them. What is wrong with you anyway? Why is this suddenly a bee in your bonnet? You didn't have a problem before. In fact _you_ said Harry was family."

"There is a time and a place for these things, Ronald," said Percy. Ginny was still in Harry's arms but she stood up straighter and her face barely masked her fury.

"What _things_?" Ron's face was screwed up in bewilderment as he rounded the corner of the little path on which Harry and Ginny were standing. Percy was blushing as he came around the corner after Ron.

"Things of an, erm, intimate nature," he eventually said, stopping short when he realised Ginny was standing right in front of him.

"Intimate, huh?" she demanded. Percy had the grace to look a little embarrassed.

"Yes, it wouldn't do to … ah … that is to say, become … intimate while, er-"

"Not you too," groaned Ginny.

"They're not shagging," supplied George helpfully and Harry felt a hot flush creep rapidly up his neck and blossom on his cheeks.

"Oh, I er, assumed," said Percy, looking more uncomfortable than he ever had.

"Common theme," muttered Ginny. She was looking intently at Bill who was steadily avoiding her gaze. There was an uncomfortable silence before Ginny pushed past her brothers and stomped up the little path back to The Burrow and stalked out of sight. Harry was left standing there, uncomfortably aware that he probably looked exactly like he'd just been thoroughly kissed. He stuck his hands awkwardly in his pockets and kept his eyes fastened on a tree over George's left shoulder.

"We decided to walk," he volunteered eventually. George raised an eyebrow at him.

"Walking, huh?" he said with a grin. "I don't look like that after I've had a walk." Harry shook his head and started off up the path.

"Nice love bite, mate," said Ron as Harry passed by. He froze as Ron and George burst out laughing.

"I don't think it's Ginny's virtue we should be protecting," said George as he slung an arm around Harry's shoulder and leaned in to inspect his neck. Harry shrugged him off irritably and strode up the path. He didn't care if the others were following him. He just wanted to somehow get inside and cover the love bite before Molly or Arthur saw it. Unfortunately Molly accosted him as soon as he was in sight of the house. She hugged him fiercely and then took a good look at him while he tried to avoid her gaze and edge towards the house.

"It's wonderful to have you home again Harry, dear," she said patting him on the cheek. "Why don't you come in and get cleaned up and I'll get you something to eat." Harry mumbled wordlessly and stepped over a discarded wellington to get through the kitchen door.

"Ah Harry," Arthur called from the table where he was reading the Daily Prophet. "Good to see you, good to see you. Enjoyed your trip then?"

Harry saw that he was sitting with Mr Granger who was marvelling over the sports section. Mrs Granger was sipping a cup of tea and staring avidly at the spatula turning pieces of bacon by itself. Molly pushed Harry towards the sink and gestured to him to wash his hands.

"Don't bother with going all the way upstairs or the other boys will be back in and have inhaled the lot before you've had a look in," she fussed. "Here, dear, you might want to just dab some of this on your neck …" Molly pulled him over to the fireplace so he could look in the mirror over the mantle and handed him a small tub. She bustled back to tend to the stove and Harry looked at Arthur out the corner of his eye.

"If it's gone, George will have less to rib you about," Arthur said casually turning a page. Harry stared at him for a moment before carefully applying some of the thick purple paste to his neck and watched as the mark disappeared.

"Thanks," he mumbled, sitting down and giving all his attention to screwing the lid back on the jar. Molly took the jar from him and put a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him just as Ron led his brothers inside. He and George were still laughing heartily and Percy and Bill were still glowering but all four of them sat at the table and began eating. George took a look at Harry's neck and sighed, muttering something about Harry being the favourite. Molly started asking them about their holiday and they were soon joined by Ginny, Hermione and Fleur who came down the stairs, having freshened up. Harry sat silently, pushing food around his plate as the chatter went on around him, late morning sunlight spilling through the window as they enjoyed brunch.

"-the possums can be quite a menace, especially if they get into your roof," Mr Granger was saying. "They can chew through the electrical wires which is rather dangerous." Harry tuned him out. Arthur was listening avidly to him with Hermione explaining the finer points of electricity and Muggle building techniques.

"-so then he realises that he's been talking to Harry the entire time!" Harry listened with one ear as George and Ron recounted the high points of their holiday to their mother. His other ear was listening to Percy who was treating Ginny to a monologue about pet care.

"It really is something you have to take very seriously; after all, another being is relying on you to basically sustain its life," droned Percy.

"Well, I've managed to keep Arnold and Pig and Crookshanks alive all year, but yeah, I guess it could be a problem," said Ginny, rolling her eyes. Percy didn't seem to hear her.

"I hope you are prepared for the realities of owning a pet," he said pompously as he meticulously cut up his breakfast. Ginny pulled a face at his bent head. "When the paperwork arrived on my desk, I was surprised to see, Harry, that you had bought Ginny a dog."

"Ginny bought her," murmured Harry, "not me."

"Well, perhaps technically she chose the animal-"

"I am right here, Percy," Ginny sounded annoyed, "and it isn't like I don't already have-"

"-but who paid for her?" Percy finished. Harry looked up at Percy slowly and put his fork down deliberately before pushing his chair back and standing up.

"Thanks for the food, Mrs Weasley," he said. "I'm going to go and see Teddy." He stalked out the door, letting it slam behind him. He was about to Disapparate when it banged open again and Ginny hurtled out.

"Harry-"

"What?" he snapped. "What does he expect? What does he think is going on?"

"Percy hasn't been around, he doesn't get it. Give him some time to-"

"Time? He doesn't need _time_ he needs to use his common sense," spat Harry. "He's always been like this. He doesn't like me." This, on top of the altercation with Bill the day before, made him feel extremely nettled.

"Look, Harry, I know he wasn't very tactful but-"

"I think tactful is the last thing Percy and Bill care about being right now," Harry said fiercely. "They don't like me, probably never have. I wouldn't be surprised if nobody else does either-"

"Oh, you know that isn't true," said Ginny, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, well then, why does it feel like that?" demanded Harry.

"Don't be ridiculous-"

"They probably think I'm just passing the time, amusing myself," said Harry. "What was it Rita said, 'enjoying the spoils of war'?"

"Oh," said Ginny, faintly, "_that's_ what this is about." Harry had no idea exactly what revelation she'd just had and he didn't care to know.

"I can't deal with them right now," he snapped. "I'm going to go and see Teddy." He knew he shouldn't be snapping at Ginny but he was stung by Percy's attitude and not willing to bend.

"Oh, am I not worth it?" she asked, an eyebrow raised and the beginnings of a temper on her face. "Am I not worth you standing up to them then, instead of running away?" Harry just looked at her in confusion.

"I don't know what you are going on about," said Harry. "But I'm not going to stand around here and listen to those two drone on and – and question me about something that's obvious to the whole world!"

"That's running away."

"Look, I'm not running away," he said, sighing as he ran his hand through his hair. "And you are worth it. I don't want to – I just need some … time – space, something. I'll be back later." Harry saw the disappointment on her face as he Disapparated. What he didn't know was exactly who that disappointment was directed at but somehow he thought it might be him.

Harry felt disgruntled and irritated when he got to Andromeda's. Spending time with his godson went a fair way to fixing his mood but he did not feel in any hurry to go home although he knew he couldn't put it off indefinitely. Between Bill's sudden, inexplicable mistrust and Percy's pompousness Harry was feeling nettled and ill at ease. At least Teddy had been pleased to see him and his eyes lit up when he saw Harry and his hair went black. When Harry picked him up the baby babbled at him and grabbed at his glasses with his pudgy little hands. Harry was amazed at how much he had changed in the week he had been gone and he spent the afternoon playing with and holding Teddy. The time zone change meant he'd been quite tired and he fell asleep on Andromeda's couch with Teddy curled on his chest, waking a few hours later to find Teddy chewing on his chin. Andromeda was watching him from a nearby armchair, a pair of knitting needles click-clacking nearby as she directed them with her wand.

"Ginny Firecalled, looking for you just now," she said. "There's a birthday tea tonight. I think she was worried you weren't coming home." Harry began tickling Teddy but didn't say anything about going home.

"Do you think he missed me?" Harry started talking aimlessly. "I missed him. I'll miss him while I'm at Hogwarts but maybe McGonagall would let me come see him, do you think?"

"Harry, what's the matter?"

"Do you think - would it be alright if Teddy came to stay for a little while?" Harry ignored Andromeda's question. "I'll be back at school in about two weeks. That's not very far away is it? It's crept up so suddenly. So, can Teddy come and stay for a little while?"

"Harry," said Andromeda firmly, "you can't use Teddy to hide from whatever problem you are having with your family."

"I – I wasn't, I didn't … that's not what I'm doing," stammered Harry. "I just missed him." Andromeda came to sit on the couch next to Harry.

"I know you didn't mean to," she said softly, "and of course Teddy can go and visit you for a few days. But something is wrong." Harry sighed and put Teddy down on the play mat at his feet, dangling a toy over his head.

"Ginny's got six – five brothers," he said heavily. "It seems that at least two of them are having … trouble with how fast our relationship is moving. Percy thought we were already intimate and has obviously forgotten that even if that were the case, Ginny is an adult and capable of making her own decisions. Bill just thinks … well, I have no idea what Bill is thinking actually.

"He was fine a few days ago! Now he's like some sort of guard or sentry over Ginny's happiness or something. I don't get it. I thought he trusted me. I thought he _liked_ me. Since Ginny's birthday he's just been really weird. Like he thinks I'm going to hurt Ginny or something. It doesn't make any sense!"

Teddy began to squirm at the changing tone of Harry's voice and complaining about something. Perhaps he could no longer see the toy Harry had been holding because he grunted and rolled over, holding his little head up for a few seconds as if searching for something before his face fell onto the play mat and he began chewing on it.

"I didn't know he could do that!"

"Oh, he just started rolling about two days ago," said Andromeda proudly. "Isn't he the most clever thing?" Harry scooped Teddy up in his arms and began cooing to him that he was such a clever child. Andromeda sat silently for a moment. Harry knew she was watching them.

"Has Bill seen how much you love Ginny?" she asked suddenly. Harry looked up at her in confusion. Andromeda continued. "When you love someone it is written all over your face. In fact it's quite a mesmerising thing to watch Harry Potter love someone."

"Well of course he knows how much I love her," said Harry, blushing slightly at the compliment. "I'm always holding her or kissing her." Harry looked down at Teddy who he'd laid in his lap in order to better play with his feet. The baby was blowing bubbles at him and Harry felt an immense rush of love for the small child and bent to press a soft kiss to his forehead. He stroked the hair off Teddy's forehead and began speaking nonsense to him.

"No Harry," said Andromeda quietly. "I don't mean does Bill know you love Ginny – but has he _seen_ you love Ginny? Has he noticed the two of you together or heard you talk about her? He _knows_ all this already but now that Ginny's an adult, about to make her way in an adult world, he's probably scared for her. It's a scary world out there."

"The whole point of my life was to make it a less scary world," muttered Harry mutinously and Andromeda laughed.

"He knows you love her, up here," she tapped her head. "But he wants to know it here." Andromeda placed her hand over her heart. Harry looked at the woman helplessly. He knew instinctively that this is what Ron had been perhaps the first to see. Ron could see how much Harry loved Ginny by the way he held her and touched her. Charlie saw it in the way he looked at Ginny. George knew it too, by how Harry spoke about her. Harry remembered how Charlie and George had seemed awed by the realisation. Harry was fairly certain Molly and Arthur could see how much he loved their daughter. They trusted him with her without question. Bill and Percy didn't realise _how_ much he loved Ginny. It was startling information with a simple solution; find a way to show Bill that he loved her more than life itself.

"How on earth do I do that?" he demanded, "and what about Percy?" Andromeda shrugged.

"I don't know everything, Harry," she laughed. "Come on; let's pack Teddy a bag and you can go and show off his new skill at home."

Harry liked the sound of that. Home. He suddenly felt a lot better about going home and he felt a terrible guilt about abandoning Ginny the way he had. If Bill needed to see Harry show how much he loved Ginny, today wasn't going to get him very far. He readied Teddy for the journey and helped pack his clothes and milk and toys. Thanking Andromeda and arranging to bring Teddy back in a few days, he clutched the child and his three bags and Disapparated home to the Burrow.

**********

George and Ron were duelling tables on the lawn, and to Harry's surprise, Charlie was egging them on from a deck chair on the edge of the lawn. He raised a hand in greeting and Charlie waved back. Harry could hear Molly's voice floating through the kitchen window, demanding that they put the tables down.

"Harry!" called Ron, getting distracted and sending his table crashing to the ground. "You're back!"

"Oooh, you've brought a friend," added George, putting his table down considerably more gracefully than Ron. "Look, ickle Harry fits right in, bringing home unannounced visitors." George came over and relieved Harry of two of the bags, ruffling Teddy's hair as he did so and Teddy turned his hair Weasley red and blew a bubble at George.

"Good move though," added Ron as he took the baby and blew a raspberry on his tummy. "All the females will forget they are cross with you if you wave the midget in their face."

"They're all cross with me?" asked Harry apprehensively. Charlie chuckled and shook his head.

"You've been gone a while, mate," answered Ron, "and you took off without sorting things out with Percy. Mum's in a bit of a dither." Harry sighed and took a quietly protesting Teddy from Ron.

"And Hermione wanted to open your Hogwarts letters together and you've held it up," added George. Teddy shifted restlessly and squealed loudly. As if in response, the back door flew open and Ginny poked her head out. She stepped out quickly and strode across the lawn.

"There you are!" she hissed. She had reached the place where he stood in the middle of the lawn, surrounded by George, Charlie and Ron and slapped him on the arm. "I have had to listen to Percy all day. Thank goodness he's gone to get Penelope and I've only had to listen to Bill for the last half an hour." She rolled her eyes sarcastically. Harry just looked at her and then turned Teddy to face her.

"Sorry?" he tried, hoping his face matched Teddy's, innocent and adorable. Ginny sighed and took Teddy, rubbing his nose with her own. She turned and headed back towards the house and Harry let out a breath. Ginny stopped dead and turned around.

"I would follow me if I were you, Potter," she called before waltzing back into the house. Ron snickered and Charlie clapped him on the shoulder.

"I'd say you've got a chance to redeem yourself," he said jovially and took the remaining bag from Harry's shoulder, giving him a little push. Harry looked apprehensively at Ron and took off after Ginny, slipping inside the door after her to find Molly, Fleur and Hermione already gushing over Teddy. Ginny's arms were free so Harry tentatively wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. Ginny turned her head so that she was looking into his eyes before putting a hand on his chest.

"I'm sorry," he offered. "I didn't know how to deal with … well … I shouldn't have walked out like that."

"Perhaps not, but I understand why you did,' she said as she slipped an arm around his waist. Harry pulled Ginny close. "You need to talk to them."

"I know," Harry sighed heavily. He stared moodily at the small fire flickering in the kitchen fireplace. Ginny turned his head gently to face her own. Harry saw understanding in her eyes but also something that said she wasn't willing to deal with things alone, that she expected him to be there to back her up. He bent down to kiss her, trying to tell her, as his lips caressed hers, that he was sorry; to assure her that he was there for her. Perhaps she understood because when he pulled back she was smiling softly at him.

"Charlie came for my birthday," she said.

"It's not your birthday," said Harry smiling back at her.

"But it's a birthday dinner," she argued.

"Oh, is a piece of stale mudcake in Yackandandah's best pub not a good enough birthday dinner for milady?" teased Harry. Ginny crossed her eyes and poked her tongue out at him. Harry didn't get a chance to respond because Molly swept by at that moment, Teddy on her hip and waggled her finger at him.

"You've been gone all day, young man and that will _not_ get you out of helping," she scolded with a smile. "Now go and help the boys set up. Go on, off you go." She patted him on the arm and took Teddy into the living room. Ginny pushed Harry outside again and he found himself ducking a pair of duelling tables just as Neville Apparated onto the lawn and was struck with a flying chair propelled by Charlie. Neville was uninjured and Ron and Harry caught up with him while they were supposed to be setting the table.

"What happened with you and Parvati, mate?" asked Ron, carefully placing forks on top of the tablemats Harry was laying out. Neville, following with the knives, just shrugged.

"Who says you have to stick with the one girl?" he said. "We had fun but it wasn't a forever thing." Harry could see Bill with a tray of glasses out of the corner of his eye and carefully avoided looking at him.

"Well you don't have to stick with the one girl but how do you know she wasn't the one?" argued Ron.

"Just because you two figured it out doesn't mean we all have," said Neville.

"Figured what out?" asked Ron absently as he took the glasses from Bill. Harry watched Neville roll his eyes at the back of Ron's head.

"Who you want to be with," said Neville. "We're not all as lucky as you two." Molly bustled out then and began berating them for taking too long and organising them like a mini army to bring dishes out until the tables were groaning with the weight of the food she had prepared. Percy had arrived back with Penelope just as all the setting up had been done and when they weren't fussing over Teddy the women were exclaiming over the ring on her finger. Percy looked inordinately proud of himself and stood discussing marriage and the future with his father and Mr Granger, both of whom were looking just a little bored, their eyes glazing over.

"Of course, these things take time," Percy was saying, oblivious to his bored audience. "Penelope and I have been together for quite some time, you understand, but rushing into things would be inappropriate. It's simply not possible to be aware of what one wants while one is still in school and certain aspects of a relationship really should wait, don't you agree, Father?" Arthur jerked as if he'd been abruptly woken.

"Ah, oh, yes Percy, absolutely," he murmured before excusing himself, leaving Mr Granger to fend off Percy on his own.

"Take young Ron for example," Percy continued, blind to the fact that Mr Granger wasn't really listening to him in the slightest. "I'm not at all sure he hasn't rushed too quickly into his current liaison. I'm sure they are getting up to all sorts of inappropriate activities and they should just slow things down to a proper pace." Harry thought Percy must have completely forgotten that he was telling Hermione's father that she was moving too fast with her boyfriend, because who on earth would say that? Well, Percy would apparently. Luckily for Hermione, Bill came along before her father actually started listening to Percy and persuaded him that Penelope needed help to show her ring off to Fleur.

"Fleur is going to make me pay for that later," remarked Bill as Mr Granger wandered off to the punch bowl, intent on refilling his drink. He grinned lasciviously. "I'm sure I can think of something to make it all better."

"Oh yes, because you're _allowed_," muttered Ginny sarcastically. Bill glared at her and opened his mouth but did not get a chance to say anything as Molly, Teddy still on her hip, called them to the table. Bill was dragged to sit at the other end of the table by Fleur and Harry and Ginny joined, George, Hermione, Neville and Ron, putting as many people between themselves and Percy as they could.

"So, not that it isn't good to see you, Neville," began Ron, as he heaped mashed potatoes on his plate. "But why are you here?" Ginny rolled her eyes at him.

"I invited him, he's my friend," she said. "You know what they are don't you? Luna was going to come but she'd already arranged a date with a boy from Hufflepuff."

"I thought she was going out with Dean," muttered Harry. Ginny nodded.

"Oh she was, but she isn't anymore," she said, "can't say I blame her."

"I can't keep up," Ron grumbled. Harry suddenly felt uneasy, like he was being watched. His eyes darted to the other end of the table where Bill was talking to Charlie animatedly but no one seemed to be looking at him. Percy was meticulously cutting up his meat and did not spare anyone a glance. Scratching the back of his neck Harry shrugged off the feeling and started eating.

Harry was part way through his meal when he felt something rub against his legs. Peering under the table he realised it was Crookshanks. He didn't think anything of this except in the next moment he suddenly heard a loud bark and an excruciating pain shot up his calves and then tore across his thighs. Crookshanks yowled as he leapt over Harry's shoulder and Dora tore across the lawn yapping loudly on the heels of the terrified Kneazle. Ginny and Hermione were out of their chairs at once, chasing after their pets.

"I thought she was locked up!" screeched Hermione. "You know she goes nuts at Crookshanks and Mum and Dad!"

"She was!" bellowed Ginny. "I don't know how she got out!" Percy sat there shaking his head as Ron, Bill and Charlie scrambled after the fighting animals. Dora chased Crookshanks up a tree and Pigwidgeon joined in the cacophony, fluttering around the Kneazle's head like a fluffy ping pong ball while Liberty suddenly swooped in and Dora began alternating her yapping between the owl and the pussycat.

"I didn't think she was responsible enough for a pet," intoned Percy as he continued eating. Harry pushed back his chair and inspected his legs which had been used as Crookshanks's climbing post. His trousers were ripped and blood was oozing from several deep scratches. Molly bustled over and began tutting over the state of him.

"I'm fine, Mum, really," said Harry as her hands inspected the scratches on the inside of his left thigh. Molly seemed oblivious to his discomfort as he squirmed in the chair while she pulled the ripped fabric aside to get a better look at the scratches. Hermione hurried past and into the house with Crookshanks and Ron was carrying an excitable Pigwidgeon. Charlie had managed to convince Liberty to stay away from Dora, who was being held by Bill and Ginny. Harry forced himself to stop squirming as Molly tended the scratches.

"There's nothing there, Ginny," he heard Bill say suddenly, sweeping his lit wand in an arc, the other arm still pinning Dora to the ground. Dora was growling fiercely, but given that Crookshanks and the birds were gone, Harry could not work out why she was growling.

"I'm telling you, I heard something," insisted Ginny, stroking the Creeler to try and calm her.

"How could you possibly hear anything with all the noise these animals were making?"

"Something's watching me," was Ginny's insistent reply. Harry hissed sharply as Molly accidentally poked his leg with her wand.

"Oh, sorry dear," she murmured absently, her eyes on Ginny.

"It's dark and there's nothing out there Gin, you can't know you're being watched," Bill said, shaking his head.

"I know when I'm being watched, Bill," Ginny answered. Her voice sounded cold and as she stood up she stared at her older brother as if daring him to defy her claim. Dora had settled down, but she was still standing stiffly and her eyes were trained on a point in the distance beyond the black cloak of darkness that fell outside the lamps they had set up on the lawn.

"There you are dear," said Molly, patting Harry on the knee. "All fixed up, shouldn't even scar. Lord knows you don't need any more of those." Harry just smiled wryly at her and ruefully inspected his ruined trousers. He looked up to see Ginny pulling Dora by her collar over to the shed where she'd been locked up for the night and went to help her. The dog was still straining at the spot beyond the tree and started whining.

"See, she knows there's something watching too," murmured Ginny as she tried to pull Dora in the opposite direction. Harry joined Ginny in dragging Dora back to the shed.

"You felt it too?" he asked Ginny quietly. She looked up at him suddenly and their eyes locked and slowly she nodded. They reached the shed and pulled Dora inside. Ginny began making a fuss of the dog who began to respond once they got her away from the tree and the unseen presence. While Ginny played with Dora, Harry leaned against one of Arthur's workbenches and watched them together. It didn't take long for Dora to curl up in her basket and Ginny came over to Harry, encircling her arms around his waist.

"Crookshanks got you, huh?" she smiled. Harry grimaced.

"Yeah," he said. "I had your mother inspecting my legs." Ginny wrinkled her nose at him.

"That's my job," she said huskily and reached up to kiss him. Before long, Harry had Ginny seated on the bench and he stood between her knees as he kissed her fiercely. Dimly he realised she had wrapped her legs around his waist and he pulled her closer to his own body, running a hand up her back and into her hair. Ginny's hands were all over him, trailing along his chest, scratching up and down his back and dancing up and down his arms. When her fingers tangled in his hair and gently scratched his scalp, Harry heard Ginny sigh contentedly in the middle of the kiss, but she did not stop kissing him. Harry didn't know how long they stayed in Arthur's shed, kissing, touching one another. Long enough for Ginny to unbutton his shirt, her fingers leaving scorching trails across his chest and long enough for Harry to snake his hands under her shirt.

The door to the shed suddenly flew open with a bang. Harry and Ginny started and pulled away from each other. Bill was standing in the doorway and the look on his face was pained. Harry instinctively went to button his shirt but Ginny put out a hand to stop him.

"Yes?" she asked her brother coldly. Bill just looked at her. "Is there a problem?"

"Can I speak to you for a moment, Ginny," asked Bill. Ginny looked him squarely in the eye.

"Sure, fire away" she replied. Bill glanced at Harry.

"In private."

"No," said Ginny calmly. "If you've got something to say to me, you've got something to say to Harry."

"Is that the way it is now?" asked Bill. "Are you even your own person any more Ginny?"

"What?"

"_My_ sister isn't some man's shadow," spat Bill. "She makes her own decisions and she doesn't spend her life in some bloke's pocket!" Ginny simply stared at him. Harry felt intensely embarrassed and wished he could be somewhere else; anywhere else.

"Is that was this has all been about?" Ginny said quietly. "You think I've sold out; become some sort of pathetic doormat?"

"Three months ago you were at school, Ginny," Bill began. "A school girl; you _are still_ a school girl. How can you be ready for all this? Do you have any idea how he looks at you?"

"Like he wants me," said Ginny promptly and both Bill and Harry blushed at her admission. She continued in a voice that wavered slightly, yet she sounded stronger than she ever had before. "I'm not stupid and I'm not a little girl. I know what it's like to be an adult, Bill. I might look like a school girl but until you understand what went on in that school last year you won't know just how much of an adult I am." She hopped off the bench and walked over to her brother. He stood defiantly, arms folded near the open door to the shed and he melted only slightly when she reached up and touched him on the arm.

"It's not too fast," she said, softer now, but just as strong and clear. "Harry and I share things and you need to get used to that. We share Dora, we share a vault, and we share our lives, Bill. That includes physical affection."

"So, you share a bed too then?" asked Bill matter of factly.

"No," said Ginny. "Not that it'd be any of your business if we did." Bill shifted uneasily.

"I don't think it's possible for Ginny to be in anyone's shadow, Bill," said Harry, still leaning against Arthur's workbench. "I love her; I don't think you realise how much. I don't want to turn her into someone she's not. Ginny makes her own decisions."

"We make them together," said Ginny, turning to Harry. He inclined his head; that was true. More and more, they were making decisions together.

"But it's moving so fast," Bill protested. "How can you possibly know what you want?" Ginny looked at Bill as if he had two heads.

"I have wanted Harry since I was eight," she said. "Do you really think this is going to change for me? I know exactly what I want and that I'm ready for it." Harry shifted uncomfortably. Bill seemed at a loss for words.

"But seventeen is a bit young to be intimate-"

"Why is it always about _that_ with all of you?" snarled Ginny. "We're _not_ intimate and it's not any of your business!" She stormed out of the shed and Harry shot a reproachful look at Bill as he followed her, pausing briefly.

"I know what I want Bill," he said quietly, buttoning his shirt. "Maybe, if it's written all over my face, you'd better read _all_ the lines that are written there." He followed Ginny into the night and found her at the foot of Fred's grave. She was standing stiffly, her arms folded across her chest and her eyes glittering in the dim light. Harry couldn't tell if her eyes were glistening with tears or anger and he stood quite still, only a few feet away, unsure what to do or say.

"Fred would have been happy," she said softly. "He would have understood." Harry said nothing, unsure if Fred would have been silent on the matter. He'd always been the first to tease. Perhaps it was just easier to believe that the people who were no longer here would have acted just like you wanted because they could never let you down. Until he was fifteen his father had been like that.

"He would have teased mercilessly," Ginny whispered, "but he would have been the first to say 'be happy'. He wouldn't have wondered endlessly or cared if we were …" She trailed off and Harry saw a lone tear roll down her cheek before she swiped at it furiously. Ginny wandered to the headstone and knelt down, reaching out to trace the words engraved there.

"Guess what, Fred?" she said, her voice wavering. "I'm seventeen now, all grown up; all legal. I got Harry, did you know that … well … before? Mum's thrilled. Ron and George are planning the wedding. Bill's being a git, thinking like a boy." She stopped and sat in silence for several long minutes. Harry cleared his throat nervously.

"I'll just-"

"Do you want to have sex?" Ginny asked abruptly as she turned to face him, her voice more like a stinging slap than a seductive caress. Harry had absolutely no idea where that came from or what the correct answer was. Did he say yes, even though they weren't ready for it, so that she wouldn't think he didn't want to? Or did he say no, so that if she wasn't ready for it she didn't feel pressured? He eventually came up with what he thought was a safe answer.

"Why are you asking, Ginny?"

"Just answer the question!"

"No!" he blurted eventually. "Well, yes actually, but-"

"Not very decisive, Potter."

"Ginny-"

"Boys only think about one thing," she began, "and you're a boy. My brothers are boys and they seem positively obsessed with it all. It was all I heard about last-" She stopped abruptly and turned away. Harry was very confused. Until now Ginny had been the one who seemed to be pushing for a more physical relationship. She had been more comfortable with his physical reactions to their closeness than he had been and she had never stopped a single one of his advances; that was left to him. He knew one thing though, there was never going to be anyone else for him. Ginny was it and everything, and he did want very much to make love to her, they just weren't ready.

There were things that worried him about what she had been through last year. The closer they got to the new year at Hogwarts, the more he noticed. He couldn't put his finger on it but something lurked in his thoughts, nagging at him that he hadn't discovered all her secrets yet. So he did the only thing he could think of. Approaching her from behind he slipped his arms around her waist and put his mouth next to her ear and then, whispering to her, told her how much he wanted her.

"One day, Ginny, I promise I'll act on that," he finished. "But right now isn't the right time for us."

"I know," she sighed. She continued quietly. "Most of the boys were obsessed last year. When things got really bleak they'd talk about not wanting to die without … well, without experience. Some girls got talked into things they regretted later." Harry held her, listening as she revealed part of what had gone on the year before.

"Everyone assumed …" she swallowed heavily, "assumed that I was … experienced. A number of boys anticipated that I would be … willing." Harry stiffened.

"What! Did they … what happened – are you all right?" Harry's words tumbled out; he could barely think. Only one thought was clear and that was if anyone had forced Ginny to do anything they'd have him to deal with, they'd be sorry they ever met him and they'd certainly not do so much as look at Ginny ever again.

"No, nothing happened, but there's a few sixth years out there now with a healthy fear of my Bat Bogey Hex," said Ginny wryly. Harry laughed grimly. "Then the Slytherins … well, I ended up in detention anyway. Neville started walking me between classes and staying with me when Luna couldn't. That just made it worse. Then they thought me and Neville …" Harry pressed a kiss to the side of her neck and breathed in the scent of her hair. He was going to thank Neville next time he saw him.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry you had to go through that," he murmured. Ginny sighed.

"It's just how it was. The Ministry was taken over, you were on the run and we were probably going to lose the war," she continued. "Between that and the way Hogwarts was being run, Filch started to run out of cupboards in which to store actual brooms. They were being put to a lot more, ah, creative uses, probably from about the first week. I can imagine it seemed more bearable to lose yourself in someone, even a relative stranger, than deal with what was happening." She fell silent and Harry contemplated her words.

"Of course, Neville and Luna and I were dealing with events rather differently than everyone assumed," said Ginny as her fingers stroked Harry's hands which were holding her close. "Seamus came and told us there was a rumour about the three of us. We kept disappearing to the Room of Requirement, plotting to get that sword out of Snape's office. Malfoy had started spreading … well … let's just call it an unsavoury rumour regarding the three of us. Next time I came across him it took both Seamus and Neville to hold me back." Harry chuckled despite the serious nature of the conversation.

"I'm sorry I missed that," he said, "seeing you all fired up. I wish you didn't have to be though. Malfoy had better just keep out of my way." Ginny sighed softly.

"It was just so hard," she admitted. "There were more Slytherins than Gryffindors I think, certainly in Seventh year. Neville and Seamus were pretty much outnumbered. You and Ron and Dean didn't come back and Malfoy was Head Boy. Michael and Anthony would have been really helpful to Seamus and Neville if they spent less time acting like obsessed boys." Somehow Harry knew Ginny was rolling her eyes.

"It sounds like you and Neville held it together then?"

"Well, not at first," she admitted. "But it didn't take 'til Christmas for people to figure out the lay of the land. Once there was less obsession and more … well, taking Neville seriously, Malfoy couldn't turn around without the combined forces of the other houses in his way."

"People still assumed though," Ginny sighed. "When Luna didn't come back to school after Christmas Michael had the gall to ask me if I'd arranged it because I was sick of sharing Neville … he deserved to figure out how to get off the ceiling by himself. I don't know why Neville helped him by informing McGonagall."

"You stuck Michael Corner to the ceiling?" asked Harry, amused.

"Well, it's not like I used a Permanent Sticking charm," she said defiantly. "He was only up there for three hours before McGonagall and Flitwick got him down. He's lucky I didn't hex his bits off."

"Ouch," grimaced Harry, "you're vicious Gin."

"Yes, well then he'd have hard a hard time following his obsession with Orla Quirke," said Ginny with glee. "Or maybe not so hard really and that would have been a problem for him. Honestly, she was a fourth year! I swear most of you think with-" Harry interrupted her hastily.

"Are you annoyed because people assume we're intimate or because I'm not thinking … well … with – I haven't tried to?" he asked her. "Would you rather people's assumptions be right?" He moved around so that he was in front of her but she wasn't looking at him, apparently fascinated instead by a speck of dirt on her jeans that Harry could not see.

"I don't know," Ginny whispered. "I'm so confused and I don't know why."

"It's got nothing to do with them," said Harry quietly. "We do what we want, when we're ready and no one needs to know any of it." Ginny looked up at him. He smiled at her in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. She studied him solemnly for what seemed like the longest time.

"Maybe I am a little bit worried that you're not acting like an obsessed boy," she said at last.

"You obviously haven't seen my dreams," said Harry roughly and Ginny laughed. He drew her to him and kissed her thoroughly, leaving them both breathless.

"I love you, Ginny."

"Mmmmm, me too," said Ginny as she busied herself leaving a trail of wet kisses along his jaw and down his neck. Ron found them there a short time later, just as Ginny got Harry's shirt completely unbuttoned again.

"Oi, you two," he called, "you're holding up the cake!" Harry groaned and dropped his head to Ginny's shoulder.

"Okay, Ron," Ginny called back a trifle breathlessly. Ron shifted a little in the shadows.

"Do I want to know what you have been up to?" he asked cheerfully. Harry wasn't sure if he preferred the Ron who avoided all talk of his and Ginny's activities or the new version who seemed to delight in catching them in the act. Harry had a sudden vision of Ron catching them in the act of something much more intimate and congratulating them and he shuddered.

"No, I'm sure you don't," muttered Ginny as she straightened her clothes and swept past Ron, back to the table on the lawn. Harry sighed heavily and ran his hands through his hair before starting after her.

"I know Mum and Dad like you," Ron said, "and I know they gave you bruise paste this morning but I doubt even Dad will turn a blind eye to an unbuttoned shirt, complete with a set of three love bites." Ron waved his hand vaguely in the direction of Harry's left collarbone. Harry groaned again and began buttoning his shirt. He wondered if he should start carrying a pocket mirror with him at all times to check that Ginny hadn't left any visible marks because it seemed to be her new favourite activity. Not that he was complaining, but maybe he'd try and get some bruise paste as well.

"They might like me, but Bill doesn't right now," he said bitterly. "How is this supposed to work if Bill and probably Percy think … well, whatever it is that they think?" Ron turned his head in Harry's direction.

"Have you met my sister?" he asked sarcastically. "She's the one who does her own thing even if people don't agree with her." Harry opened his mouth to say something but Ron had started talking again.

"Bill will come around," Ron assured Harry. He seemed serious. "Ginny's birthday just threw him a bit and you two have been getting quite close with the whole holiday thing. What do you suppose it is about holidays that make you feel close to someone? I'm not looking forward to being away from Hermione. Being with her all the time … it's like … it's cool." Harry looked at Ron in amusement. They had nearly reached the edge of the lawn.

"Eloquent, mate," Harry chuckled before sobering. "Do you think Bill will come around? That it's just because Ginny came of age? What if it's me? Maybe he thinks Ginny deserves better. He said she's stopped being herself. What if being with me has changed Ginny and she's not who she was? What if Bill's right and we are moving too fast?" Ron stopped and faced him, the dim light playing across his features as he shook his head at Harry.

"What is wrong with you today?" he asked. "Bill's being an idiot. He's known you for years and he knows what you're like and he knows as well as the rest of us that Ginny deserves the best." Ron grabbed his arm as Harry tried to turn away.

"Harry," said Ron seriously, "you and Ginny bring out the best in each other. She hasn't stopped being herself; she's more herself now than she has been for months. I was talking to Neville and he reckons she hid it well but she missed you terribly last year and it showed. He said most people wouldn't notice, but he says watching her tonight, it looked like part of her that had been missing was back and he reckons it's you. Some rubbish about some sparkle he only ever saw when she was talking about you." Ron paused.

"Of course, I don't want to know that Neville watches my sister sparkle," he grimaced, "that's sort of creepy, don't you think?" Harry grinned and shoved Ron on the shoulder.

"She does sparkle though," said Harry. "When she's all excited about something or if she's up to mischief and she's got this sort of glow when she smiles that makes her look so … alive." Ron just looked at him and shook his head.

"You've got it bad," he sighed. "She's gotten her hooks into you and you're never getting away. Not that you want to go anywhere, do you?" Harry shook his head.

"So why doesn't Bill understand that?"

"He will, he's just being, well … a brother," said Ron, shrugging. "If you ask me, he suddenly realised he spent the last two months being your brother and when Ginny turned seventeen he remembered he was Ginny's brother too. Don't worry, he knows you, he loves you and he wants you in Ginny's life." Harry looked at Ron sideways. Rarely did they speak so candidly about feelings with one another like this. Ron shuffled his feet a little and Harry sighed.

"I wish I could be sure of that."

"You can," Ron assured him quietly. "We all feel the same, even Percy; he's just taking a while to figure it out because he's distracted by paperwork. You're part of the family, Harry, and not just because you're with Ginny. We want you around. We don't want anyone else with Ginny. You don't play with people's feelings, so it's obvious what _you_ want and it's obvious she doesn't want anyone else. Oh, and I think the midget wants you too."

They could hear Teddy's fretful cries from the group on the lawn. Harry hurried out to locate Teddy and saw that Molly was setting a large chocolate cake in front of Ginny and wondering aloud where Harry had gotten to.

"I'm right here, Mum," said Harry as he reached Neville and took Teddy from him. The baby grasped Harry's shirt in his little fists and stopped wailing. He calmed down, sobbing and hiccupping a few times as Harry rocked him and patted his back. Harry sank into the chair next to Ginny as Teddy's eyes slid shut and Harry looked up at Ginny and smiled.

"Sorry to hold up the cake," he said, grinning at her. Ginny smiled at him and leaned over to stroke Teddy's head which was now sporting a crop of messy black hair.

"That's okay," she said, "I don't mind waiting for you." Teddy shifted and started fussing again and Ginny and Harry both bent over the baby, Harry rubbing his back and Ginny whispering softly as she stroked his head. Harry watched Ginny soothe the baby and he reached up his free hand to her face as Teddy shut his eyes once more. He felt Teddy sigh heavily and snuggle closer to his chest and Harry pulled Ginny to him, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"Thanks," he said as he pulled away. Ginny just smiled and lifted the hand she'd been stroking through Teddy's hair and ran it through Harry's matching locks.

"Can we have cake now?" Ron's plaintive plea cut through Harry's senses and he raised his head to see everyone looking at them. Molly was smiling at them, a wistful expression on her face.

"Come on then," she said brightly as she bustled towards Ginny and the cake, brandishing her wand and lighting the candles. Harry cradled Teddy as everyone joined in singing Happy Birthday to Ginny. When she cut the cake and handed him a piece, he found it hard to eat one handed so he placed it on the table and tried to cut it into smaller pieces with the edge of his fork. He laughed as he watched Ginny guide a fork laden with cake into his mouth before clumsily returning the favour.

"Is this our new thing?" he asked Ginny as he guided the third mouthful to her lips. "This is the way we eat chocolate cake now?" Ginny closed her eyes as she pulled the cake off the fork and nodded. After she swallowed she leaned forward.

"Yeah, it's our new thing," she said just before she kissed him softly. She tasted heavenly and Harry lingered over the kiss.

"You two are insatiable!" called George from the other end of the table.

"I can't believe he actually knows what that word means," said Hermione in an undertone.

"Highly inappropriate," muttered Percy.

"Leave them alone," said Bill quietly. Harry felt Ginny pull away slightly and he looked up at Bill, but the older man was concentrating on his own piece of cake. Harry wasn't sure what Bill had seen, but if the smile playing on his lips and the way he was feeding his cake to Fleur was any indication, Harry thought he might have just won back Bill's approval.

Harry slung an arm around Ginny's shoulder and she snuggled up to his side, one hand resting lightly on Teddy's back as he slept cradled against Harry's chest. They stayed like that, listening as the sounds of conversation washed over them and Harry tried to ignore the persistent feeling that he was being watched.


	23. Chapter 23

**23. Revenge**

Teddy was finally asleep after deciding that the early hours of the morning were play time. He'd spent the hour before dawn screaming his head off and Harry was exhausted. After one of the shortest night's sleep in history, Harry wandered blearily down to breakfast, sat heavily at the table and propped his head on his hand. Ginny pushed a cup of coffee under his nose and sat down next to him, stroking his hair back from his face as she ate her cornflakes one handed.

"Teddy up most of the night?" she asked. Harry nodded; too tired to do more than inhale the coffee and hope he got a caffeine hit.

"Harry," said Molly as she brought a plate of bacon to the table, "I really would be happy to take care of Teddy for you." Harry tilted his head to look at her.

"Thanks Mum," he replied, "but I want to do it. He's my … guest and I guess I just want to take care of him." Molly smiled at him fondly.

"Well, I'm here if you need me dear," she said, patting him on the hand with a smile that said she was anticipating being needed and went back to the eggs still cooking on the stove.

"Me too," said Ginny. Harry turned his head to look at her without lifting it from his hand. "I'd like to help." Harry reached out his free hand to grab hers and smiled at her. He was about to tell her that he and Teddy were the luckiest blokes on the planet when Hermione stalked into the kitchen, Ron on her heels.

"Bloody hell, woman-"

"Language, Ron!"

"- what did you go and do that for? I was just getting comfortable!"

"Well, Ron, in case you are not aware, my parents do not know we've grown accustomed to, er, snuggling in the mornings!"

"You've forgotten I was not aware of that dear," said Molly matter of factly, from the stove where she was levitating scrambled eggs into a large serving dish. Hermione blushed heavily. "It's not that I mind exactly, dear, but you are probably right to keep those sorts of activities private."

"I do not want to discuss this with my mother," muttered Ron under his breath as he slid into the chair next to Harry.

"Don't discuss it with me either," Harry mumbled back, contemplating if the coffee would be worth the effort of lifting it to his lips. He had just decided it would be when he heard a wail from the living room where Teddy had been put to sleep in Ron and Ginny's old cradle. He sighed heavily and put the coffee back on the table. He was about to get up when Ginny put a hand on his arm.

"Let me go to him," she said in a soft but firm tone. Harry was about to argue with her but she was looking at him with concern etched into every one of her features. "You need to eat something and then go back to bed." She pushed a plate in front of him and piled it haphazardly with bacon and eggs before she darted out the door and into the living room. Teddy's cries ceased and Harry could hear Ginny talking softly. He smiled as he ate his bacon and eggs because he thought he heard her start singing.

"Harry," Hermione said quietly as he took the last bite of eggs, "do you have time to open our letters now?" Harry looked up at her in surprise. She seemed unaccountably nervous and was fidgeting in her seat.

"Sure," he replied. "Let's wait for Ginny?" Hermione nodded feverishly and her eyes darted to the mantelpiece. Harry saw three parchment envelopes propped between two of the ornaments and smiled slightly as he heard two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs, treading on every creaky board.

"Good morning!" Mr Granger called cheerily. "You have a fabulous ghoul, Molly!" Ron stared incredulously at him and shook his head.

"We do need to find a place of our own though dear," said Mrs Granger. "I don't think we belong in a world with ghouls." Harry got the distinct impression that Mrs Granger did not share her husband's enthusiasm for magical spectres.

"Well there's no need to worry about that yet, dear," said Mrs Weasley, filling their plates. "Let's get this lot sorted for Hogwarts before we worry about that. Is Percy's room comfortable? I know it's a bit of a squeeze. Fred and George's room is a bit bigger of course but …" She trailed off and turned back to the stove. Harry heard a distinct sniff.

"Oh it's just fine Molly, just fine," said Mrs Granger, getting up and patting her on the shoulder. "We'd be honoured to stay, if it's not too much trouble." Molly turned and smiled brightly at her though her eyes were red.

"Well as soon as Ginny comes back," Molly said, "we'll open up those letters, shall we and see what sort of preparations we need to make." She turned back to cooking the breakfast and the only sounds in the kitchen were scraping cutlery and the soft sizzling sounds of cooking bacon.

Harry was still tired and was debating whether or not to drink his coffee or go back to bed when Ginny came back in carrying Teddy. She had obviously searched the bags Harry had brought with him because Teddy was no longer in the clothes Molly had labelled pyjamas and handed him last night but something that Ginny obviously considered daywear. Harry was glad; he could never quite figure out what was what and more than once he'd had Andromeda and Ginny laughing at his attempts to choose Teddy's wardrobe.

"Oh good, he's dressed," said Molly briskly as she bustled over to her daughter brandishing a bottle. "Did you change his nappy?"

"Eventually, yes," Ginny nodded and took the bottle from her mother before settling into the small armchair squashed into the corner by the fireplace. "When Charlie finally got out of the bathroom. I am definitely having my own bathroom one day. I am over seeing you lot parading around in towels! Does he really think I want to see _him_ flexing his freshly showered muscles?"

"I doubt you are over all of us flexing things," muttered Ron, looking sideways at Harry, who felt himself blush profusely. Ginny rolled her eyes at Ron as she concentrated on settling Teddy for a feed, but there was a smirk on her face and she didn't argue with him.

Harry propped his head on his hands and watched her as she smiled at Teddy and began making faces at him. When Teddy reached up a hand to grab her hair she laughed merrily and Teddy turned his own hair red. Teddy sucked noisily on the bottle and his fingers played with the ends of her hair. Ginny looked down at him and stroked his cheek, then played with his little toes. As Ginny sat with the baby in her arms, Harry could see a part of his future. It still amazed him that he had one and that Ginny would be willing to share it with him. He saw himself in the kitchen, cooking breakfast, while Ginny fed their son. If they fixed up Grimmauld Place, Ginny could have her own bathroom. The idea of Ginny in a towel was much more tantalising than Charlie in one. He watched as Ginny put down the empty bottle and sat Teddy up, rubbing his back. His eyes drifted downwards and his mind wandered to the way those curves felt under his hands and the thought of Ginny in a bathroom. He had to be roused from his daydream by Ron.

"Oi, stop drooling and open your letter!" he said, waving an envelope under his nose. Hermione was looking at hers as if it was about to explode and Ginny's envelope lay on the table next to him, waiting for her to finish handing Teddy over to her mother and join them. Harry took the letter from Ron. It was curiously thin. Hermione was staring at hers and turning it over and over in her hands. Ginny picked hers up as she slid into her seat and tore it open in one swift movement, pulling the sheaf of parchment out and smoothing it onto the table.

"This is the last Hogwarts letter I'll ever get," breathed Hermione, staring at the envelope in her hands. Ron looked at Harry and shook his head before reaching out and capturing her hands in his.

"Open it Hermione," he said softly. "Nothing bad is going to happen and you've been looking forward to this. Just open it." Hermione shook her head, still staring at the envelope clutched between them. Harry was sure that if Ron had not been holding her hands still they would have been shaking.

"I don't believe it!" exclaimed Ginny suddenly. "There's no Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook!" This seemed to galvanise Hermione to action and she ripped open her own letter and pulled the contents out with haste and a small, glittering missile skittered across the table and landed in front of Harry.

"This is ridiculous!" she exclaimed as she scanned her own list. She hadn't noticed the small, shiny item in front of Harry. He smiled as he turned it over to reveal a new Head Girl badge.

"Look!" he exclaimed, affecting a breathless falsetto and holding the badge aloft. "I made Head Girl!" Hermione's head whipped up as she stared at the badge.

"Oh! Oh!" she squeaked she dropped the letter on the table and covered her mouth with her hands.

"I'm not sure it suits me," muttered Harry as he held the badge up to his chest. Hermione made an indistinguishable noise halfway between a moan and a squawk. Harry grinned at her and held the badge out. She took it reverently. Ron and Harry exchanged a glance and smiled at her as she sat, speechless, the badge in her hand.

"Congratulations dear," said Molly. "That's wonderful! Oh you'll do such a good job! Isn't that wonderful?" She turned to Hermione's parents who were beaming with pride and got up to hug their daughter. Ron plucked the badge from her fingers and pinned it to her chest before buffing it with a table napkin. Blushing, Hermione pushed his hand away.

"What's the point?" said Ginny, tossing her Hogwarts letter across the table to her mother before reaching for the envelope and screwing it up. "Do they think there's no need for Defence Against the Dark Arts? It's not like He was the only evil wizard and now there are a whole bunch of kids out there know who know how to _do_ Dark Arts!" she said viciously.

"Well, that certainly does seem odd," murmured Molly as she read the letter, holding it at arms length to stop Teddy screwing it up. Ginny threw the envelope at the fireplace and it bounced off the grate with a clang. Ginny jumped out of her seat and ran to pick it up. She frantically pawed through the crumpled remains of the envelope to extract a Prefect badge just as George and Charlie came into the kitchen. George shook his head slowly.

"You've sold out, shorty," he said sorrowfully. "Ickle Ginny's a _Prefect_." Molly swooped in to smother Ginny in a hug, little Teddy squawking as she did so and Mrs Granger plucked him free and handed him to Harry.

"Oh my!" exclaimed Molly. "I'm so proud of you dear!" Ginny smiled at her mother and patted her awkwardly on the back. Charlie and Arthur, arrived shortly afterwards and took turns hugging Ginny but she managed to catch Harry's eye.

"Congratulations," he mouthed at her. Ginny grinned at him and Harry wished they were somewhere else, so that he could congratulate her properly. The kitchen was a maelstrom of activity and Teddy was demanding Harry's attention by reaching for his hair and glasses.

"You'll have to behave now, ickle Ginny," teased George. "I don't think we can come to that arrangement concerning free Wheezes any more."

"Aw, come on George, think of the free publicity!" she laughed. George lowered his voice and bent his head to hers conspiratorially.

"Should we be discussing this in front of the Head Girl?"

"I think she's too busy to listen to our plans," giggled Ginny. Harry glanced at Hermione. Ron kept trying to shine her Head Girl badge which was still pinned to her chest and Hermione was bright red with embarrassment and the effort of keeping his hand away.

"Stop it, Ron!" she said eventually, turning away from him. Ron merely grinned and slipped his arms around her waist, hugging her to him and nuzzling her neck.

"Open your letter, Harry," said Hermione. Ron looked up interestedly.

"Yeah, open it mate," he added. Harry handed Teddy back to Molly and picked up his envelope, tearing it open.

The kitchen gradually fell silent as Harry frowned at the small piece of parchment in his hand. Professor McGonagall had written him a short note that said nothing more than she requested his presence as soon as possible because she had something of import to discuss with him. Ron reached out and grabbed the envelope, tipping it upside down and shaking it futilely before peering inside.

"Where's your badge, mate," he asked. Harry shrugged, re-reading the short missive from Professor McGonagall and frowning.

"Professor McGonagall already gave him the Quidditch Captain badge, Ron," said Hermione impatiently. "So I expect it's up in your room." Ron shook his head pityingly at her.

"Not that one, Hermione," he said.

"Harry, what's wrong?" asked Ginny. He looked up at her before handing her the letter.

"McGonagall wants to see me at her earliest convenience," he said to the room at large. "I haven't got a Hogwarts letter." The explosion of noise was immediate and deafening.

"You haven't got one?"

"I thought you were going back!"

"Good one Harry, called to the Head's office before term even starts!"

"What do you mean you haven't got a letter, dear?'

"This is just ridiculous! First there is no text for Defence and now Harry's letter is missing!"

"What do you suppose she wants?" said Ginny as she looked up from the letter. Harry shrugged.

"Only one way to find out," he said, watching Teddy lean his head on Molly's shoulder and suck his fist.

"If you want to go today, I can look after Teddy," Ginny said softly. She turned to Teddy and held her hands out to him. "You want to spend the day with Auntie Ginny? I'll teach you how to turn your hair pink like mummy's." The baby gurgled and snuggled into Ginny's shoulder as she took him from her mother.

"Don't turn my godson's hair pink," said Harry absently as he retrieved his letter from where Ginny had discarded it on the table.

"I know!" exclaimed Hermione. "I expect Professor McGonagall didn't want your letter intercepted. I mean who knows what could have happened. They'd know your movements then-"

"Hermione, the war's over," said Ron. "No one cares where Harry goes now."

"Not according to Witch Weekly, mate," said George who had been collecting the post from Errol at the kitchen window. The ancient bird fell off the draining board and Charlie shook his head and bent to retrieve the bird from the floor. "Witch Weekly appears to be _very_ interested in where you go and what you do." George was flipping through a magazine and eventually stopped, staring exaggeratedly at the page. Charlie, who was peering over his shoulder, let out a whistle.

"Oh, very nice smile, Potter," he said grinning. Harry grimaced. "Oh look Ron, they got your best side!"

"Me?" squeaked Ron. "What have they got me for?"

"Top ten wizarding heroes of our time," recited George. "Meet the men who have ensured our safety and security, ushering in a new era of peace."

"What a load of bollocks," muttered Ron mutinously.

"But Ron, you're number two," interjected Charlie, grinning. "Ronald Weasley, handsome, tall and quite possibly the nicest derrière around."

"It does not say that!" Ron reached for the magazine and captured it easily.

"I bet it does," muttered Hermione and Ginny giggled. Ron groaned. Harry took this to mean it did in fact mention Ron's backside.

"Well, come on then, who are the other eight?" Molly asked. Harry shook his head resignedly as George plucked the magazine from Ron's grasp and turned the page.

"Well, doesn't Neville look nice," said George with a cheeky grin. "Look at you three, beating the Minister into fourth place."

"Yep, Kingsley's number four," said Charlie. "Very nice things they have to say about his voice." George turned the page.

"Wow, Dad, you made number five!" Molly snatched the magazine from George.

"Oh and look at my Bill," she said, beaming.

"What is the whole family in there?" asked Charlie. Molly turned the page.

"Well, George certainly is," she said with some pride. George reached over and plucked the magazine from his mother's hands. He looked at the page for only a moment before he screwed it up and hurled it across the room and stormed out the back door. There was stunned silence in the kitchen and then Ron tore out after him and Charlie slowly bent to pick up the crumpled periodical and smoothed it out on the table.

"This is a picture of Fred," he said quietly after a moment. Molly sank heavily into the nearest chair.

"And I call myself their mother," she said. "Not that I am _their_ mother anymore, I'm just George's mother." She began to cry and Arthur hurried to her side. Hermione peered at the page.

"Well it does have George written in rather large letters," she murmured. "Anyone would have said George automatically." But this did nothing to stop Molly's tears. Harry could see Ron and George through the kitchen window. Ron was talking frantically while George stood rigid and furious, his arms crossed over his chest. As Harry watched, Ron reached out a hand to George and it was if his touch made George crumble and Ron gathered his brother into his arms. Harry's heart ached as he watched Ron hold George, Ron's shaking shoulders giving away the fact that he too was crying. Things were supposed to be getting better, the wounds were supposed to be healing but looking around him Harry felt emotions that were as raw as if the war had ended only days ago and not months.

Arthur held his sobbing wife while his sons stood crying in the garden and Ginny was sitting at the table staring at the picture of Fred and absently stroking Teddy on the head while the baby chewed on a fistful of her T shirt. Harry looked up at Charlie who met his eyes and shrugged helplessly. Hermione and her parents sat quietly at the table while Errol twitched feebly on the draining board.

"So, Harry, are you going to see McGonagall today then?" asked Charlie quietly.

"Um, yeah, I will," Harry answered. "Should find out what she wants, I s'pose." Charlie nodded, the conversation dying once again. The only sound in the kitchen was Molly sniffling and Teddy making a sort of humming noise as he gummed his fist. Charlie began drumming his fingers nervously on the table and suddenly Ron came through the kitchen door with a bang.

"George is just, er, talking to Fred," he said nervously looking at his mother. "I'm just getting one of the, um, files from his room and we're going to the shop; going to reopen tomorrow."

"All right Ron," his father said quietly. "We'll see you at tea?" Ron nodded as he headed out of the room. Molly seemed to perk up as Ron bounded noisily up the stairs.

"Well, I'd best get started on tea then," she said.

"Mum, we just finished breakfast," Charlie said softly. Molly just looked at him.

"Do you really think, young man, that I can't cook all day?" she asked him pointedly. Charlie smiled sheepishly and Ron returned brandishing a sheaf of parchment.

"You going to Hogwarts today, mate?" he asked Harry, who nodded. "Might see you at the shop tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'll be there tomorrow," agreed Harry. Ron nodded and headed back outside and Harry heard the faint sound of two Apparitions.

"I'm just going to um, contact Professor McGonagall," Harry said into the awkward silence. Arthur nodded.

"Why don't you use the Floo, Harry," he said. "It will be quicker than an owl."

After arranging to meet Professor McGonagall later that afternoon, Harry spent the morning lazing around The Burrow with Ginny and Teddy. Harry had discovered, over the course of the summer, that when he got restless, Teddy enjoyed going for a walk in the sunshine. Harry and Ginny took turns carrying him as they wandered aimlessly around the garden.

"I wonder why McGonagall didn't send you a Hogwarts Letter," said Ginny as she and Teddy watched Harry capture and throw a garden gnome out of the garden. Harry shrugged and held his hands out to take Teddy. Ginny wrinkled her nose at him. "Wash your hands first." Harry cast _Augaumenti_ to cleanse his hands and Teddy laughed at the stream of water, reaching out to touch it. Harry conjured more water and directed it so that Teddy could touch it. The baby flapped his hands in the water, splashing both Ginny and Harry.

"Thanks buddy," said Harry wryly, as he wiped his glasses dry on the hem of his shirt. Teddy only squealed in response. Harry put his glasses back on and took Teddy from Ginny, blowing a raspberry on his tummy and immediately regretting it as pudgy fingers grasped the spectacles and pulled them off his face. After rescuing his glasses and turning Teddy to face outwards, so that his glasses were inaccessible, Harry returned to his earlier conversation with Ginny as they strolled into the orchard.

"McGonagall was the one who told me to come back to Hogwarts," said Harry thoughtfully. "You don't think she's changed her mind do you?" Ginny shook her head.

"I doubt it, but I don't understand," answered Ginny. "Perhaps it's like Hermione said, she didn't want the letter intercepted."

"What secrets would my Hogwarts letter hold?" asked Harry. "Dear Mr Potter, welcome back to Hogwarts, which is no secret because Luna put it all over _The Quibbler_. We'll see you on September the first as you come off the Hogwarts Express, which is no secret because everyone does that every year. Go and buy this list of books from the same shops as everybody else so they are no secret either." Ginny smiled and reached out a hand to stroke Teddy's cheek.

"He's asleep," she whispered. Harry looked down at Teddy who had fallen sideways, his little head resting on Harry's bicep and his arms and legs dangling forward. He watched as Ginny gently took Teddy from his arms and cradled him. Teddy stretched slightly in his sleep before curling into her chest and sighing. The sight of Ginny with a baby snuggled into her curves did something to his insides that he couldn't quite identify, but he knew he didn't want to talk about Professor McGonagall anymore.

Harry conjured a blanket and spread it out under a shady tree in the orchard. Ginny put the baby down carefully before settling herself next to Harry, patting Teddy when he stirred. Harry watched her again as her hair fell around her face and he reached out to pull it back. His hand found the back of her neck and with gentle pressure he pulled her towards him. He watched as her eyes closed but her lips still found their way unerringly to his. She pushed him backwards, her small hands splayed across his chest and his own eyes closed as he pulled her down with him.

"What about Teddy?" she asked, breaking the kiss. Harry pulled her back to him, his hands finding her hips and moving her bodily towards him. "Harry-"

"He'll be fine," he insisted, running his hands up her back and urging her lips back down to his. Ginny twisted away and a frustrated Harry let his head fall back onto the blanket. His earlier daydream had come back to him as he held her in his arms and he had been anticipating quite a bit more activity than that.

"You know I get all involved and … lost in you, Harry," Ginny said, blushing only slightly.

"Do you just?" smirked Harry as he snaked an arm out to pull her back down. She placed a firm hand on his chest, stopping his progress.

"Harry," she warned.

"He's fine. He's sleeping," insisted Harry, propping himself up on one elbow and reaching for her neck with his lips. "I get lost in you too you know." His efforts were thwarted as Ginny sat back on her heels. Harry flopped backwards in frustration.

"If we are … otherwise involved, how can we protect Teddy?"

"Protect him from what, Ginny?" sighed Harry. "He's in the shade, Mum did a sunscreen charm on him and he has a hat on. He can only roll onto his tummy, then he gets stuck, so he's not about to roll away." He propped his head up on one hand and reached out to her with the other, entwining his fingers with his own.

"There's someone out there, Harry," Ginny whispered, leaning in close. "Someone is watching us." Harry heard her but was unable to resist the opportunity to capture her lips with his own. He gently caressed her lips and gradually she melted into him. He had just reached those tantalising curves that had been beckoning him all morning when she pulled away suddenly.

"Did you hear that?" she whispered frantically, checking on Teddy who was still dozing peacefully on the blanket next to them.

"No, I didn't," Harry groaned.

"I heard something!"

"I know you did, Ginny," Harry reassured her. "It's probably some reporter or a photographer trying to get a story. They know where I live now. We should get Bill or Dad to ward The Burrow." Ginny tilted her head to one side.

"You're probably right," she said, smiling. "Now I do believe we were just about … here." But Harry kissed her for only a moment before he pulled away groaning softly.

"If it is a reporter or a photographer, the last thing we want them to see is … us … doing that," he said, sighing heavily as he flopped back onto the blanket. Ginny flopped down next to him melodramatically.

"Shall I never get my way with you, Mr Potter?" she sighed. Harry laughed.

"Never say never, Weasley." He grinned as he turned onto his side to face her, lowering his voice to a whisper. "In fact I'd say you have a very good chance of doing exactly what you please with me one of these days because soon I won't be able to resist you. It's that simple."

"I'll hold you to that," she answered, giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek and sitting up. Leaning against the tree trunk she stretched her legs out in front of her and patted her lap. "Here, a pillow, you need to catch up on some sleep." Harry crawled over to her and laid his head in her lap, falling asleep to the gentle rhythm of her fingers stroking slowly through his hair.

He slept for most of the morning and only had time to grab a quick sandwich before kissing Ginny a hasty goodbye and dashing through the Floo. He had planned to Apparate, but Flooing straight into McGonagall's office saved him some time.

"Good afternoon, Mr Potter," said Professor McGonagall briskly as he stumbled out of the fireplace. Harry saw Kingsley Shacklebolt seated in a chair by the desk, a steaming cup of tea in his hands.

"Professor," nodded Harry, "Kingsley." He looked up instinctively at the portrait of Professor Dumbledore and saw the professor sitting upright in his chair, his eyes twinkling, as though waiting for the entertainment to begin.

"Have a seat, Harry," said Professor McGonagall as she indicated a chair and poured him a cup of tea. Harry perched himself on the edge of a squashy armchair. The Professor rarely called him Harry and he had the undeniable feeling that she was warming up to ask him to do something he was not going to agree to willingly. That Kingsley was there was also curious, and he wondered why she had not mentioned that in their conversation earlier that morning.

"I'm not sure why I didn't get a Hogwarts letter, Professor," began Harry. "It's causing a bit of concern at home."

"Ah, yes, well …" Professor McGonagall trailed off uncertainly and took a sip of her tea. "There is something I need to discuss with you."

"The Board of Governors have given their approval for Hogwarts to reopen on September the first as usual," said Kingsley. "They have, however, also made some, well recommendations, which we are obliged to follow. This has made some … aspects of the reopening difficult."

"We don't have a full complement of staff," said Professor McGonagall. "One of the new provisos from the Board of Governors is that the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor be an Auror. They wish to eliminate any doubt that the person taking the post is, shall we say, trustworthy." Harry just snorted and Professor McGonagall pursed her lips.

"I am afraid that Mr Malfoy is determined to make things difficult," she said, sipping her tea.

"Malfoy!" exclaimed Harry in disgust. He turned to Kingsley. "How is it he can just waltz back onto the Board like that? I thought things would be different!"

"Money talks, Harry," said Kingsley in an even tone that almost disguised the disgust that was evident on his face. "I have only so much influence on the Board."

"So does the lack of a Defence Against the Dark Arts text book mean that there is no Defence Professor?" asked Harry and he got the distinct impression that Professor McGonagall was avoiding his gaze.

"It has not been easy to convince an Auror to take the position," said Kingsley. "Nor to find one who is capable. Dawlish just didn't seem an … appropriate choice."

"We have managed to engage such an Auror, Mr Potter, however he has … conditions," Professor McGonagall's face and her lapse back into formal address betrayed the fact that she was not at all pleased with this arrangement but she obviously had no choice.

"I guess the conditions involve me then?" said Harry, annoyed. The war was over, Voldemort was gone and he still couldn't get one normal year at Hogwarts. Something had gone wrong and the year hadn't even started yet!

"He refuses to teach the Seventh Years if you attend the class," sighed Professor McGonagall. "The man is utterly and completely intimidated."

"But if he doesn't teach the Seventh Years – that's not fair!" Harry exclaimed. "I suppose that he will do it if I'm not in the class?" Professor McGonagall nodded her head slightly.

"A fact that I find utterly unacceptable as you will need the NEWT to commence Auror training," said Professor McGonagall. "Rather than ask you not to take the subject, Kingsley and I believe we have come up with a suitable solution." Harry just stared at the Professor.

"A solution?"

"Yes, Mr Potter, a solution," she replied crisply. "I am asking you to supervise the time slot allocated to Seventh Year Defence Against the Dark Arts." Harry stared at her.

"That's … innovative," he muttered, casting his mind about desperately for a way to avoid the situation.

"Not so much innovation Mr Potter, as desperation," said Professor McGonagall. "Those students already know enough to pass their Defence Against the Dark Arts NEWT. You taught the majority of them everything they know anyway."

"But I'm not an Auror, so I can't," said Harry smugly. Kingsley solemnly handed him a small leather wallet. Harry took it at flipped it open. Inside was a gold disc about the size of a Galleon. His name was inscribed it below the words _Provisional Auror_.

"The Board of Governors might be able to make all sorts of arbitrary decisions about Hogwarts," said Kingsley gruffly. "But I am able to make all sorts of arbitrary decisions about the Auror department."

"Please, Harry," pleaded Professor McGonagall. "If you don't do this, you won't be you won't be on the NEWT course and if you're not on the course, you can't take the exam. Stupid, I know, but that's the Ministry for you. And quite frankly, if Harry Potter doesn't take Defence Against the Dark Arts it will undermine the entire course and we simply can't afford to let the subject fall off the curriculum." Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"Besides, I like potential Auror Department Heads to have a Defence NEWT," said Kingsley idly sipping his tea. Harry just stared at him.

"How am I going to find the time to do this?" he asked after a long silence broken only by the clink of McGonagall's teaspoon on her saucer. "I'm going to have enough trouble with my own studies without doing lessons and things for other people!" Professor McGonagall looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"As I said Mr Potter, these students know enough to pass the NEWT," she said patiently. "There is very little left to learn, it is all about the red tape. As I said, they have to take the course to be able to sit the NEWT. I did not say you had to teach them anything. Of course, if you should choose to teach, and require assistance, you do remember Hermione Granger, do you not?" Professor McGonagall took another sip of her tea and shuffled some paperwork on her desk. Harry looked up at the portrait of Professor Dumbledore behind her head. His eyes were still twinkling but he did not speak. Harry scowled at the portrait and turned to Kingsley.

"So, if I agree to do this, what … you make me some sort of part time Auror?"

"Well I might have made up a new Auror category," said Kinglsey, not looking him in the eye. "The Board was very specific that the Defence Against the Dark Arts supervisor had to be employed by the Auror Department. They did not exactly specify in what capacity." Harry looked at the wallet in his hand, turning it over and inspecting the back.

"This is already engraved," he said slowly as he rotated it. "Were you that sure I would agree?"

"Albus was," said Kingsley shortly. He looked as though he had just lost a bet and if Harry looked carefully he could see the ghost of a smile on Professor McGonagall's lips. Harry sighed as he turned his attention to Dumbledore who was sitting upright and expectant in his chair.

"Okay, I'll do it," he said. "Just to get us all through the red tape; I'm not doing any teaching." Professor McGonagall smiled and Kingsley sighed in relief.

"Thank you, Mr Potter," said Professor McGonagall. She fished a parchment envelope out of the top drawer of her desk. "You might need your Hogwarts letter." She came around the desk to hand it to him as he stood. He tucked it into a pocket until he could get home and open it with Ginny.

"I'll see you on September first, Professor," he said. "Would it be all right if I stopped in to see Hagrid on the way home?"

"Of course, Mr Potter," Professor McGonagall replied. "I am sure Hagrid would be most pleased to see you." Suddenly Harry found himself engulfed in a hug. It lasted only a moment and the stern woman he had come to know was back, self-consciously straightening her robes.

"Off you go then Potter, I have work to do," she said briskly as she bustled back to her desk. Harry just smiled as he pushed the heavy doors open and made his way down to see Hagrid.

There was little evidence in the castle that a battle had ever taken place there. Walls had been repaired, paintings rehung and suits of armour had been set back in place. Harry toyed with the idea of going up to the Seventh Floor to see the Common Room but the events of that morning were too fresh in his mind and he had no desire to go near the seventh floor corridor where Fred had died. He hurried down to the Entrance Hall, ignoring the portraits that called out to him and headed out into the sunshine. Thestrals flew above the Forbidden Forest and he noticed Hagrid at the edge of the Lake. It looked like he was fixing a small boat. Fang gambolled around the lawn nearby and Grawp was watching him intently. Harry called out to Hagrid as he changed direction but before he'd gone too far Fang had run him down and was licking his face. Harry, pinned to the ground by the massive dog, screwed up his face as he tried to fight Fang off.

"Fang! Back off ye great dozy thing!" bellowed Hagrid. "Sorry Harry!" Having managed to push Fang off with some difficulty, Harry cleaned himself off as best he could with some well placed cleaning charms and made his way to Hagrid who engulfed him in a hug.

"Hello, Hagrid," wheezed Harry. "Hello Grawp! What're you doing?" Harry could see now that Hagrid had a pile of little boats and with a start he realised they were the boats that the First Years came to Hogwarts on.

"Fixin' th' boats up," said Hagrid as he effortlessly flipped one over and began inspecting it. "Only realised yesterday that the storage shed got hit by a few stray spells. Professor McGonagall seems a bit worried that they'll sink. Took pains ter tell me she didn't want any Firs' Years drownin'. As if I'd let any of 'em drown. I got long enough arms to fish anyone out." Hagrid shook his head as he inspected the next boat.

"Well, it's probably best, you know, to fix them," said Harry feebly.

"You all set fer comin' back ter 'Ogwarts then Harry?" asked Hagrid suddenly. Harry looked up at him in surprise. Hagrid sounded worried.

"Well, I only just got my letter, so I have a bit of shopping to do I expect," he said. "I can't see any problems though." Hagrid looked at Harry seriously.

"You're goin' to keep yer nose outta trouble this year aren't yer?" he asked. "If I find ye in that Forest I'll haul yer inter detention meself." The large man was looking suspiciously moist eyed.

"Well I've never just gone in there on a whim!" protested Harry. "And you've actually dragged me in there before!"

"Jus' you stay out of tha' Forest, Harry," insisted Hagrid. He was looking distressed and suddenly Harry realised why Hagrid was so adamant he not go near it. Harry had not considered the impact of that last terrible battle on Hagrid. He reached up and patted Hagrid on the elbow.

"I'm sorry Hagrid," he said. "Of course I'll stay out of The Forest. In fact I'm going to stay out of trouble entirely this year. I'll be a model student, you'll see. Life will be peaceful and quiet."

"Don' go gettin' carried away Harry," said Hagrid. "There's gotta be some room for mischief." He winked, his solemn mood obviously forgotten.

"Well I'm sure Ron and George can help me there," Harry smiled. Hagrid wiped his suspiciously wet eyes and patted Harry on the back so hard that he toppled into Fang who thought it was a new game. Hagrid had to haul him out from under the huge dog and Harry looked ruefully at his bedraggled robes.

"You'd best get home and tidy up I 'spect," said Hagrid, his giant hands clumsily straightening Harry's collar so forcefully Harry thought he might choke. "Don't need young Ginny seein' yer like tha'."

"I'll see yer at the start of term, Harry," Hagrid finished and Harry bid him and Grawp goodbye before ambling up to the gates and Apparating back to The Burrow.

The sun was low in the sky and the shadows were lengthening as he pushed open the kitchen door to find Hermione and Neville sitting around the kitchen table and Molly bustling around the stove. He'd been at Hogwarts a while and judging by the smells it was nearing tea time.

"Hi Neville," greeted Harry as he pushed the door shut.

"Oh Harry, you're back!" exclaimed Hermione. She still had her Head Girl Badge pinned to her shirt. And Harry smiled to himself. "What did Professor McGonagall say? Have you got a letter? Did you ask her about the Defence text book? How does Hogwarts look? Will it be ready in time for the start of term? Did you see Hagrid, or Grawp?" Harry smiled at her enthusiasm.

"I'll tell you, I'll tell you," he said laughing. "Where's Ginny?"

"She took Teddy for a walk," said Hermione. "I really don't understand why she wouldn't let her mother do it. We were getting so much done in our little meeting."

"Meeting? What meeting?"

"I dropped by to see Teddy and the Head Girl here managed to rope us both into an impromptu Prefect meeting," said Neville. Harry tried to hide a smile.

"So you're the other Seventh Year Prefect then?" asked Harry.

"Yeah, and Gran is ever so proud," said Neville, grimacing slightly.

"That's fantastic Neville," said Harry dropping into a seat. "I think Ron'll be pleased. Since he's not going back with us, it should be you. Who are the others? Do we know?"

"Oh yes, I have a list," said Hermione fishing through the pile of parchment in front of her. "I don't know who the Head Boy is. I thought he'd be on there. I really do think it is remiss of Professor McGonagall not to let me know. There's a lot of things to plan and I have less than two weeks. What if I don't like him? What if we can't get along? I was worried it would be Malfoy, since he was Head Boy last year, but he's the Slytherin Prefect." She scanned the list before passing it to Harry.

"Malfoy's coming back? And he's a Prefect?" asked Harry in disgust, as he scanned the list. "That's about as welcome as the fact that his father's still on the Board!"

"He is?" exclaimed Hermione. She shook her head. "I know he stayed out of Azkaban, but on the Board? How does this world work?" Harry shrugged.

"Kingsley says money talks," he said bitterly.

"You saw Kingsley?" Harry was about to answer when a scream ripped through the air.

"Ginny!" exclaimed Neville as he bolted from his seat. Harry didn't have time to wonder that Neville could tell so swiftly that it was Ginny screaming because he reached the door quicker than Neville, Hermione on his heels and the three of them hurtled out into the late afternoon sunshine, Molly close behind. Harry could hear Dora barking frantically in the orchard before the screaming suddenly ceased and the dog began to whimper. Between the whimpers he could hear Teddy crying.

Without wasting breath shouting Ginny's name Harry ran for the orchard. He leapt over a low stone fence in his way and skidded around a hedge to find Ginny on the edge of the orchard, curled protectively around Teddy as a burst of red spell fire shot out of the shadows, making her scream again. He couldn't get a clear shot at whoever had the Cruciatus curse trained on her so he cast the strongest shield charm he could and hoped that it would interrupt the spell. Or disturb the intruder, anything really, he wasn't fussy. The spell ceased and Harry saw a shadow dart through the trees at the edge of the orchard. Ginny stopped screaming and her mother pushed frantically past Harry. Harry and Neville took off after the shadow in the trees.

Their quarry was not particularly adept at keeping quiet and Neville and Harry had them cornered within minutes. Coming around a tree, Harry cast a stunning spell and Neville threw an _Expelliarmus_ blindly past the tree. A black robed figure fell face down spectacularly while a wand went spinning through the air, narrowly missing Neville's head. Both Harry and Neville were panting heavily as they pushed the offender over with their feet so that they could see their face. A comatose Gregory Goyle lay at their feet.

"I might've known it was him," spat Neville. "He never could hold that curse for very long." Harry looked at Neville in horror.

"He what?" he croaked.

"Oh he's good enough at it I suppose, but Crabbe could hold it longer," said Neville sounding suddenly worn out.

"Good enough?" echoed Harry faintly. Neville shrugged.

"Might be the most disgusting curse on the planet but you can still be good at it," he said, kicking Goyle and then levitating him and directing him through the orchard back to where Ginny was. Harry was not certain that Neville was trying to miss the trees as Goyle was hitting them with alarming regularity.

Harry's heart leapt into his throat when they got back to where they had left Molly. For a moment he felt guilty for leaving her alone to pursue Goyle, but this was pushed aside when the logical part of his brain reassured him that her mother was with her, and she hadn't been alone. The orchard was considerably busier than when Harry had left it to dash into the trees. Hermione was crouched over Dora, stroking the still whimpering Creeler, Mr and Mrs Granger had obviously heard the commotion and Mrs Granger was soothing Teddy while Charlie was conversing in low tones with her husband. Ginny was lying still and unconscious in her mother's arms. Harry heard the distant crack of several Apparitions as he raced to her side. A loud thump let him know that Neville cancelled the levitation spell on Goyle rather suddenly while he was still some way above the ground.

"Is she – is she all right?" asked Harry quietly as he fell to his knees beside Ginny. He took one of her hands in his, it was cold. "Ginny?" She remained unresponsive and Harry blinked back the tears gathering in his eyes.

"She's breathing," said Molly, her voice wavering. "She probably needs a Healer." Harry was dimly aware of several more people joining them as he stroked Ginny's cheek, smoothing the hair off her face and kissing her forehead gently.

"What happened?" said Arthur as he knelt beside Harry and reached out to his daughter.

"G-Goyle," said Harry, starting to shiver despite the warm sunshine. Arthur slipped an arm around his shoulders.

"Malfoy!" The quiet was shattered by a shout from Ron. "What are you doing here, you scum?" Harry jumped at the sound of Ron's voice and whirled around to see Ron, his wand drawn and pointed menacingly at Malfoy's chest. George was holding him back. Harry had no hesitation in joining him and Neville hovered near his elbow. Malfoy suddenly looked rather intimidated and throwing up his hands, he began stammering.

"I – I was l-looking f-for Goyle. He – he's gone a bit … barmy."

"Barmy? What do you mean, barmy?" demanded Harry, his wand ending up only inches from Malfoy's chest as he advanced on him.

"Well, I told you he was touched in the head, didn't I?"

"Yeah, yeah, we've known that since first year," said Ron impatiently, waving his wand about dangerously. Malfoy shook his head.

"No, I mean more touched," said Malfoy looking a little more relaxed. "You're looking a bit barmy yourself there, Weasleby." Ron growled and flourished his wand near Malfoy's head.

"But what are _you_ doing here? asked Harry.

"I told you, I was looking for Goyle," said Malfoy impatiently.

"Why here?" asked Harry viciously.

"I'm not answering any of your questions," scoffed Malfoy. "You can't detain me like some criminal." Harry, keeping his wand trained on Malfoy turned his head slightly to check on Ginny and saw that George and Charlie were standing behind him and Ron.

"Oh yes I can," Harry snarled as he watched Ginny's head loll back as her father pulled her into his arms and her mother conjured a wet cloth to sponge her face. "But I don't want to deal with you right now, I have better things to do, so out with it. Now!"

"Come on, out with it," repeated Ron menacingly. "Why is Goyle here and why is he using my sister for target practice?" Malfoy looked at Ron disdainfully until Harry let out a low growl.

"It's because of Crabbe," Malfoy sighed. Harry drew his brows together in confusion.

"Crabbe's dead," he said bluntly.

"I realise that, Potter. I'm not an idiot," sneered Malfoy. Harry flourished his wand under Malfoy's nose for good measure. "That's what sent Goyle barmy. How is this not clear to you?"

"Well, you don't seem barmy," said Neville. "Why's it sent him 'round the twist?"

"You'd better start explaining, Malfoy," Harry spat. "Like I said, I've got better things to do than talk to you."

"He's gone mad with grief. He wants to avenge Crabbe's death," said Malfoy a trifle sullenly. "He blames you."

"But Crabbe started that Fiend Fyre!" Ron yelled. "Harry saved your sorry ar-behinds!" Malfoy looked at him scathingly.

"Obviously you don't understand love, Weasleby," he said. "Such a touching article about your family here and the Mudblood, I thought you would have understood his motivations." George let Ron's arm go and Ron had his wand at Malfoy's throat, pushing the Slytherin against a tree before Harry could move.

"Don't you ever say that again," he hissed menacingly. "You will apologise to Hermione. Right. Now."

"Sorry Granger," squeaked Malfoy, rather pathetically in Harry's opinion, but it was enough for Ron to let go of his shirt. Harry had been considering Malfoy's claim while Ron was menacing him.

"Are you saying Goyle's trying to get revenge on me, for Crabbe's death?" he asked Malfoy, who nodded. "So he's doing that by targeting Ginny? Why?"

"Because the Weaslette is the woman you love," said Malfoy simply, eyeing Ron's wand which was still dangerously close to his left ear.

"But why not just target me?"

"I have to spell it out for you, don't I?" Malfoy sighed. "Dumbledore wasn't the only fruit on the Hogwarts tree."

"Huh," said George after a prolonged silence. "Didn't see that one coming."

Harry hadn't given much thought to the love lives of his professors and certainly not to Goyle's. He wasn't surprised by Malfoy's revelations, just startled that it had been revealed in that way at this time. He heard Ginny groan from behind him and turned. Arthur was doing his best to reassure her as he knelt on the ground, her small body cradled in his arms.

"You're all right, Ginny, you'll be all right," Arthur whispered and Harry wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Ginny or himself.

"Teddy?" Ginny whispered frantically.

"He's fine, shhhh," whispered Molly. Something inside Harry just snapped.

"I don't _care_ if he lost the love of his life!" spat Harry. "There's been enough! The war is over, it's been ENOUGH! I won't have anyone hurting anyone else I love! I won't lose anyone else because of this stupid war! It's over and I've paid a big enough price. I won't pay anymore!" He advanced on Malfoy and Ron must have seen either a dangerous glint in Harry's eyes or the fear in Malfoy's because he grabbed Harry's arm.

"Let's just call the Aurors, Harry," he said. "Let them deal with it." Harry felt Neville grab his other arm but he shook them both off and took a step closer to Malfoy.

"Yeah, I don't have to answer any more of your questions," Malfoy's voice wavered only slightly. "I'm not talking till you call an Auror."

"Oh don't worry, I'm already here," Harry said, his voice cold, calm and menacing. He fished in his pocket for the small wallet Kingsley had given him that afternoon and flipped it open, shoving the gold disc in Malfoy's face. The other man's jaw dropped. Harry tossed the wallet to Ron who let out a low whistle. Harry whirled around to train his wand on Goyle.

"Don't hurt him!" shrieked Malfoy suddenly. "He's the only friend I have left!"

"Harry …" Ginny's voice was barely a whisper but it cut right through Harry's fear and diffused his simmering anger. He whirled around.

"Don't, Harry," she said. "It's over, let it be over." With sudden clarity Harry saw that Malfoy had lost things in the war too. The Malfoys might have managed to worm their way out of Azkaban. They might still have money and influence but Draco Malfoy seemed a shadow of his former self despite his bluster and bravado.

As Harry looked around, he was reminded that he was surrounded by those he knew to be friends and his family. Malfoy said he had only one friend left. Harry, without effort, could influence anyone from a bus conductor to the Minister. Malfoy's father sought to retain his tenuous hold on power and influence by trying to throw his weight around and draining the family coffers. Harry had to stop a grin appearing on his face as he realised that if he wanted to, he could turn all of these things to his advantage. There would be few repercussions if he damaged Gregory Goyle, but then if he used his influence to flout the law, was he any better than the Malfoys?

Harry glanced at Ginny; she was pale but her eyes pleaded with Harry not to do anything. They held a mixture of apprehension and surprise. Instinctively he knew that if he did anything further the apprehension would translate into fear; fear of him, and the surprise would be replaced with sorrow. There were some repercussions he couldn't and didn't want to live with.

Harry lowered his wand slowly as he held Ginny's gaze. The battles might be over, the war might be won but there was still a lot of fighting to do. The kind of fighting that kept the peace. Kingsley was already starting to change things and Harry was pleased that he was going to do his part. He was going to start with helping out at Hogwarts and if he could do something about Lucius Malfoy's influence on the Board while he was at it, then so much the better.

"Someone had better call Kingsley," he said quietly and put his wand in his back pocket. In a few short strides he was kneeling at Ginny's side and gathering her into his arms.

"Are you all right?" he asked, searching her pale face intently.

"Teddy, is he okay? I tried to shield him," Ginny whispered frantically. Harry nodded.

"He's fine, he's okay," he said, pressing a kiss onto her head before he buried his face in her hair.

After several minutes Harry realised vaguely that Arthur had left and Molly got up slowly muttering something about tea. Whether she meant the meal or a strong cuppa Harry did not know. She stroked her daughter's hair before kissing Harry on the head and walking heavily away. That her parents left Ginny with him right then spoke volumes to Harry and if he'd had any doubts about their approval they would have been banished by those simple acts. Ginny clung to his shirt and he instinctively rubbed her back as he knelt on the grass in the orchard, the remaining sunlight shining in horizontal beams through the trees. He ignored the rustling activity he could hear behind him. It sounded as though Bill and Fleur had arrived because he could hear the French woman's voice. They stayed silent for several long minutes before Ginny stirred.

"Dora?"

"I don't know," answered Harry. He heard a quiet footsteps swishing through the grass behind him and then Bill's voice.

"Dora's fine," he said. "Hermione and Ron are taking her to the Magical Menagerie to be sure."

"Thanks," croaked Harry. A sudden thought crossed his mind. "Where's Teddy?"

"Fleur's taking him home," said Bill. "Don't worry, Harry. It's all taken care of. Dad summoned Kingsley to deal with those two idiots. All we need to do is bring Ginny inside. I think Mum wants to check her over."

"I don't need checking over or _bringing_," huffed Ginny. "I can do it." She futilely struggled to sit up for a minute before Harry picked her up and sat her in his lap, resting his forehead on hers.

"I'll bring you," he said softly. "You can't possibly walk after that." Ginny looked at him mutinously.

"I'm fine," she said grouchily. "It wasn't even a particularly good Cruciatus." Harry blanched at the casual way she said it.

"What do you mean?" demanded Bill. "How can you tell what a good Cruciatus is?" Ginny shrugged.

"Crabbe's were always better than Goyle's, so really, if you had a detention you kind of hoped for Goyle," she said matter of factly. "His usually don't do more than tickle. Seamus just used to yell louder for effect. Those dopey Death Eaters thought Goyle was better at it than Crabbe, so he always got given the Gryffindor detentions. Something had Goyle fired up today though. That actually hurt." Harry just stared at her in horror.

"How many of these detentions have you had Ginny?" asked Bill quietly. Ginny shrugged.

"Well we mostly kept our noses clean in class," she said. "Not that many. Snape sent me to Hagrid most of the time. I only really had that three week one." Harry remembered the time she had showed him the photograph, the time Snape had been so angry that he not sent her to Hagrid.

"So, how many, Ginny?" asked Bill again.

"Well three weeks is twenty one days, Bill," she answered sarcastically. "Perhaps you can figure out the maths?"

"Twenty one days straight?"

"Yes, Bill," she rolled her eyes. "That is what three weeks usually means. Look, I don't want to talk about this. Can we just go inside?" Harry nodded and Bill picked her up from his lap so that he could stand. It was by silent agreement that Bill handed her back to his waiting arms. The three of them made their way to the house, Bill hovering protectively. As they neared the back door Kinglsey came out with Malfoy. Another Auror trailed after them, levitating a still unconscious Goyle.

"Where're you taking them?" asked Bill as they joined Kingsley on the back steps.

"He's going to St Mungo's to be assessed," answered Kingsley, indicating the unconscious Goyle. "Young Mr Malfoy here is coming in to explain to us why he didn't inform us that Mr Goyle was stalking Miss Weasley during the last twenty four hours."

"I told you someone was watching me," said Ginny triumphantly as the three of them went inside. She insisted on being put down once inside and Harry eventually acquiesced and placed her gently on the floor just inside the living room. She took only one step towards the couch before sinking gracefully to the floor, her knees hitting the worn carpet as they gave way. Molly gasped and Harry dropped to his knees beside her.

"Ginny," he said, reaching for her hand. She jerked away.

"Don't," she whispered in a strangled tone. Harry reached out to her anyway, putting one hand on her cheek and turning her face to look at him. He was startled to see the tears glittering in her eyes. She continued, whispering softly, "I'm okay."

"No, you're not," said Harry, stroking his thumb on her cheek. "You need to see a Healer." Ginny closed her eyes. Harry pulled her to him and looked over her head at Molly who was wringing her hands and looking sorrowfully at her daughter.

"I'm fine," insisted Ginny in a stronger voice. "I just need a bit of a rest." Neville snorted. Harry hadn't noticed him standing by the fireplace.

"Come off it Ginny-"

"Neville," warned Ginny in a low tone.

"No," he answered forcefully. "You know as well as I do this is serious. It took three weeks of detention before that happened last time." Ginny glared at him.

"This has happened before?" asked Arthur softly. Ginny looked away and Neville nodded.

"Madam Pomfrey warned her that this might happen," he said quietly. "That's why we always covered for her after that, me and Seamus mostly. Cruciatus usually takes your mind but Crabbe and Goyle didn't have much finesse and it affected her nerve endings. I got caught hanging about outside, waiting for her detention to finish after a week. So I had to wait in the Common Room. When she didn't come back after the last detention I went looking for her. It was a good thing she was near the Hospital Wing because it wasn't something I could fix with a simple healing charm. Don't be stupid, Ginny. You know a Healer can probably fix it with a potion." Molly knelt in front of Ginny and reached out to smooth the hair from her face. Ginny flinched.

"Why didn't you tell us?" she murmured. Ginny shrugged, studying her fingernails. Harry could practically feel the embarrassment rolling off her in waves. "If we knew-"

"Well I didn't exactly expect to run into a Cruciatus curse going about my peaceful daily existence, did I?" she eventually spat. "It's not something that happens to most people." Harry had a sudden vision of Ginny trembling in his arms after spell fire had sizzled over her head in Origin Alley. Battle was one thing but curses coming at you while going about your daily life were quite another.

"Let's get you to St Mungo's," said Arthur softly and Harry could hear the pain in his voice. Harry wiped away a single tear that fell down Ginny's cheek. "We'll Apparate from outside." Harry stood up wordlessly and gathered Ginny into his arms before following Arthur and Molly outside.


	24. Chapter 24

**24. Fame**

Harry stumbled out of the kitchen fireplace, cursing the invention and trying not to fall flat on his face. To his surprise, there was no one in the kitchen, and with a sinking heart, he realised that he couldn't expect Molly to be in there. He was about to head up the stairs when raised voices from the living room caught his attention. He paused in the hallway, recognising Percy's voice. At first, he couldn't make out what the argument was and he decided to go on up the stairs but then he heard his name followed by Ginny's. He stopped, one foot on the bottom step, straining to catch what Percy was saying.

"-well then, why is she in St Mungo's right now?" Harry's heart sank. He knew the answer to that question – because of him. It sounded like Percy knew it too. Harry took his foot off the bottom step and leaned back against the wall, tipping his head back to rest on it and willing the tears not to fall. He was jolted out of his self loathing by a new, louder voice.

"Because Goyle's an idiot," said Ron scathingly.

"Yes, but why did Goyle go after her?" insisted Percy. Harry knew the answer to that question too – because of him. He sighed heavily.

"What's your point?" demanded George's voice suddenly.

"Well if she wasn't inv-"

"I can't believe you're blaming Harry for this," Harry heard Hermione say quietly. He'd heard enough and stepped into the room.

"Hermione, can you help me with something, please?" he asked, watching with satisfaction as seven heads whipped around in surprise and Percy turned purple with embarrassment. "Mum sent me to get Ginny's things. I think you'd have a better idea of what she needs than I do."

"Does she need to stay in?" asked Ron, jumping up. Harry shrugged wearily.

"I don't know," he admitted, "maybe. Mum sent me home because they wouldn't let any of us in to see her and I … sort of shattered three of the light fittings in the waiting room." Harry ran a hand through his hair as he grimaced wryly. Ron smirked.

"So it could have just been an excuse to get you out of there?" asked Hermione gently. Harry nodded. He wasn't so blind that he hadn't worked that out. He had protested at first, not wanting to leave Ginny, however he soon realised that refusing to do something that helped Ginny didn't look anywhere near as dedicated as it felt. And that was how he found himself pushed through a Floo by Molly Weasley. When he'd finished his musings he realised Hermione was still talking.

"Well, she'll want something to change into in any case," she muttered as she gathered up a pile of books. "And I expect a hairbrush will be handy." Hermione kept talking as she left the room, patting Harry absently on the shoulder as she passed by him in the doorway, her pile of books teetering ominously.

"I will go and 'elp 'er," said Fleur as she rose from her seat. Harry leaned against the doorway as she passed. She stopped and turned back to him, reaching up to touch his cheek. "She weel be alright 'Arry. Teddy, 'e ees fine and Andromeda sends Ginny 'er love."

Harry just looked away from her, staring into space and hoping he didn't start crying, wishing desperately that he wasn't there, that he could just see Ginny. He didn't know how she was, he didn't understand why he'd been unable to see her and the worry was growing in the pit of his stomach. Fleur was gone but Harry didn't move. He was roused from his stupor only by Ron touching his arm.

"Come and sit down, mate," he said softly and Harry let himself be led to a chair near the fireplace. He sank into it and dropped his head into his hands. No one said anything for a moment.

"How's Dora?" Harry asked suddenly.

"She's fine," said Ron. "We got some kind of potion for her, but she'll be fine."

"Thanks," muttered Harry.

"Having a dog is just not as simple as a Pygmy Puff," said Percy officiously. Harry jerked his head up and looked at Percy as he once again began droning about responsible pet ownership.

"Why did you come anyway, Percy?" he asked, startling himself. He had not intended to voice his thoughts. Percy stopped talking and closed his mouth with a snap. "Was it just to debate whether or not Ginny and I can take care of a dog?"

The room fell silent and Harry suddenly regretted his outburst. Starting a war with Ginny's brother was a sure way to mess things up. He fell silent. Percy, on the other hand, seemed to suddenly have a lot to say.

"Well, that's just the thing, isn't it?" he began. "Why do you and Ginny even _have_ a dog? You don't have any business having a _pet_ together! She's only seventeen and she's obviously still a target for all sorts of nefarious characters! No doubt that was brought about by the reckless disdain for authority which she shows. I wonder where she learned that?" Harry just stared at him. Percy wasn't subtle.

"Percy, I'll see you outside," interrupted Charlie. He looked dangerous, his burly forearms flexed as he jerked his thumb towards the door.

"I really don't think-"

"No, you don't," said George as he pulled Percy to the door in one swift motion. Percy was flung about like a fish on the end of a fishing line and Harry couldn't help noticing that George didn't move quite the same as he used to. He rather fancied that if Fred had been there Percy would have been frog marched stiffly through the door, a twin on either side. As it was, George had him by one arm and hauled him ungracefully through the doorway, bumping Percy into the door frame on the way out.

"Be careful!" called Bill as Harry heard the kitchen door swing open. "Don't spill any blood; Mum doesn't need another child in St Mungo's right now!"

"Sorry," murmured Harry miserably to Ron and Bill.

"What for?" asked Ron. "It's not like it's your fault he's still an idiot."

"But it is my fault Ginny's in St Mungo's right now," Harry said.

"Oh that's rubbish," Ron scoffed. "She's there because she didn't tell her secrets. She's there because no one believed her when she said someone was watching her. If it's anyone's fault it's ours. We could have listened to her. Perhaps if we listened to her more she'd tell us more of her secrets."

"You believed her didn't you Harry?" asked Bill gently. Harry nodded. "You believed someone was watching her."

"Yeah, we thought it was just a reporter or something though."

"You _get_ her, Harry," said Ron. "You get her in a way we don't."

"Do you know why she got that detention?" Harry asked them bitterly. Ron and Bill shook their heads. "Snape saw her with a picture of us, under a tree. It looks a bit like my Mum and Dad."

"Oh, I've seen that one," admitted Bill. "It's a nice photo, until you start kissing her." Harry blushed and Bill grinned at him.

"Shove off," Harry muttered. "She got that three week detention because Snape saw her with that photo; because she was with me."

"Well, you can't blame yourself for that, Harry," said Ron reasonably. "It's not like you handed out the detention personally. I can imagine you with the power to give detention. Malfoy, you're breathing! Detention, with Hagrid, in the Forest and whatever crazy animal he's cooked up today!" Harry smiled in spite of himself and he wondered if he'd be able to give a detention in the course of his alleged supervisory duties. He'd have to ask McGonagall.

"You're going to have to stand up to Percy, you know," said Bill suddenly, breaking into his thoughts. "About Ginny. Charlie and George aren't going to convince him."

"Oh, and somehow I am," snorted Harry.

"Well, you managed to convince me," said Bill. "Last night, you pretty much told me to watch everything you did. So I did. You stood up for her, when she was upset she was your first priority. You apologised for holding things up; you thanked her for helping you. You treat her the way I want my sister to be treated; like she's the most important person in the world."

"You treat her the way Bill treats Fleur," said Ron. "But you have _got_ to shut Percy up."

"But … I-"

"If it was anyone else but Percy would you have told him off by now?" demanded Ron.

"Probably," muttered Harry.

"So why not Percy?" insisted Ron. "He's being a right git."

"Oh yes, that's good form isn't it?" said Harry sarcastically. "Hello, Percy, I think it's great that you are willing to talk to your family again, so why don't you shut up?" Hearing footsteps on the stairs he got up and strode to the door, running into Hermione who was carrying a small bag.

"Here you go Harry," she said, handing it to him. "Anything Ginny needs should be in there."

"Thanks," Harry murmured. "I'll just head back-"

"Talk to Percy first," said Ron.

"Just leave it, Ron," snapped Harry. "I'm not about to start a fight with Percy. It's the last thing anyone needs right now."

"It doesn't have to be a fight," insisted Ron. "Just tell him. That's the end of it."

"It won't be the end of it though Ron," said Harry miserably.

"What are you on about?" demanded Ron.

"Well, Percy isn't about to let Harry tell him what to do is he?" interjected Hermione. "He's older than Harry for a start and to Percy that means he's got seniority."

"Seniority?" gaped Ron. "Who cares about bloody seniority?"

"Language, Ron," said Hermione mildly. Harry just watched as Ron and Hermione threw sentences back and forth. "He's older and therefore he thinks he knows better than Harry and that Harry should look up to him."

"Look up to Percy?"

"Yes, he's probably convinced that he is wise enough to understand just about everything."

"If anyone should be doing any looking up to anyone, Percy should be looking up to Harry!" said Ron rolling his eyes at her.

"Besides, I don't think it's sunk in yet that Ginny's an adult," said Hermione, crossing her arms defiantly.

"She's seventeen, how can he get around that _fact_!"

"Well, Percy wasn't there, in fact he's missed the last three years hasn't he? As far as he's concerned Ginny's probably still fourteen!"

"So? She had a boyfriend then too!"

"Oh I think it was a bit different to the relationship she has with Harry," said Hermione. "Besides, it's not like you didn't have a problem with that."

"Well I only had a problem because it was Michael and not Harry!"

"Percy would have had a problem with Harry," mused Hermione. Ron snorted.

"They've forgotten we're here," said Bill conversationally to Harry.

"They do that," answered Harry, smiling. He had thought that the arguing would diminish once Ron and Hermione got together but he'd been witness to numerous small squabbles in the past weeks and now Harry wondered if it wasn't something they enjoyed in a way he simply did not understand. Conflict was definitely not Harry's thing.

"Getting back to the point-"

"Yes, Hermione, what was the point?"

Hermione huffed and put her hands on her hips.

"Percy will be offended if Harry tells him what to do-"

"Who cares?"

"- and it will start a fight," continued Hermione as if Ron had not spoken.

"Who cares?" repeated Ron. "Percy'll get over it, eventually." Hermione looked sideways at Harry.

"Well, Ron, perhaps you are comfortable with family fighting but," she paused and Harry stiffened and turned away.

"Yeah, it never lasts long," said Ron carelessly. "Bit of a dust up, move on; clears the air in no time at all really ... unless you are Percy the git, takes a bit longer then."

"Well, I've never had a sibling exactly," began Hermione, "but I assume that's how it is with most siblings, yes." She stopped and Harry sensed she was biting her lip. Bill came to her rescue.

"How do you think Harry feels about fighting in his family, Ron?"

"Percy's only been back for a couple of months, Ron," added Hermione. Harry knew that everything Hermione and Bill said was true. He didn't want to fight with Percy and not just because everyone was on tenterhooks at the moment. If he caused a rift with Percy and it made him leave, it would cause untold pain. Harry wasn't comfortable with family fighting; it had never cleared the air at the Dursley's. His mind wandered briefly to the Dursleys. They were another thing he needed to sort out before he went back to school. He should see Dudley at least. He forced his attention back to the conversation still going on in the living room.

"- but we'd back him up," Ron was saying. "Perce's lost his last ally."

"Percy doesn't back down without a fight," insisted Bill. "He may seem a bit … ineffectual, but he's as stubborn as the rest of us."

"_You_ told Harry to stand up to him!"

"I know that," sighed Bill, "but Hermione's got a point."

"Look," interrupted Harry. "I'm not doing anything about it right now. So just let it go." He sighed and went into the kitchen to Floo back to St Mungo's. Percy was sitting at the kitchen table, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Charlie was leaning against one of the sideboards and George was tilting a chair back on its back legs and drawing pictures in the air with the tip of his wand. All three were silent and appeared to have arrived at some sort of standoff. Harry didn't say anything either, he only reached for the pot of Floo powder. Taking one last look at the scene in the kitchen, Harry stood poised to scoop up a handful of Floo powder when Ron came bursting into the kitchen.

"Harry! Wait!" Harry looked up questioningly and Ron brandished the small wallet containing the Auror medallion at him.

"Er, you left without this before," Ron explained, handing the wallet to Harry.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled, taking it and stuffing it in the back pocket of his jeans.

"What is that anyway?" asked George. "And why'd it make Malfoy look like he was about to wet himself?" Harry exchanged a look with Ron who raised his eyebrows as if to ask Harry if he was going to reveal its contents. Harry shook his head imperceptibly but before he could think of something to say to George, Percy spoke up.

"It's an Auror medallion wallet," he said. "Where did you get one of those Harry? They are highly regulated. Not something a person can go about liberating and using without authorisation. Not even you."

"That's a bit rich-"

"It's Harry's!" Ron interrupted George forcefully. "It's got his name on it!"

"Harry's?" Charlie sounded surprised and Harry could see the curiosity on their faces as he looked around the room. Bill and Fleur had come to stand in the doorway and George had sat up straight, the legs of the chair thumping to the ground. Percy broke the silence that had fallen.

"Honestly Ron, they don't go handing out Auror medallions like sweets from the Hogwarts Express Trolley," he said disdainfully.

"Are you calling me a liar?" demanded Ron. "You waltz out of our lives for years and then you waltz back in and think you can take up where you left off just because we're all in a state of shock? You think no one will notice if you're being a git?"

"Really Ronald-"

"Don't you Ronald me!" shouted Ron. "You haven't changed at all! You're still calling Harry a liar! For Merlin's sake Percy, you were _there_! You saw him with Hagrid, you saw him defeat that ugly bastard! What is it going to take with you?"

"You would hold past errors against me, Ronald?" Percy seemed irritatingly calm. Harry was feeling decidedly not calm but Ron gave him no room to express it.

"Past errors? That's what you call them?" Ron said menacingly. "You called Harry unbalanced and violent!"

"Yes, well at the time-"

"Yeah at the time, well what about now, what is your excuse now?"

"I think I have just a little bit more experience with The Ministry than you do, Ronald, and I am telling you that access to those wallets is very stringent," said Percy, starting to look a little bit irate. "I think it's perfectly reasonable to ask Harry how he came by it." All eyes in the room swivelled to Harry and he carefully put the pot of Floo powder back on the mantelpiece.

"Would it matter, Percy?" he asked quietly. "Would it matter if I told you or are you going to keep looking for a reason, any reason to question me about every little move I make?"

"Who cares, Harry," said George. "Tell us, I want to know!"

"George?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Shut up."

"Right you are Harry!" George fell silent but he was grinning from ear to where his other ear would have been and looking as though he'd been waiting for this all year. Harry put down the bag Hermione had packed for Ginny and crossed his arms, leaning casually against the kitchen table so that he towered over the still seated Percy.

"Do you remember The Minister?" asked Harry conversationally. "Big bloke, nice voice according to Witch Weekly? Very little hair?" Percy just looked at him stoically.

"I know him!" piped up George. "Lovely bloke, used to come 'round for tea. Oh, but of course Percy, you missed that. Right about the same time you missed Harry here as he was proved trustworthy and Ginny, you know … growing up." Harry did not notice the fireplace start to flare just behind him.

"George?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Shut up." George gave a salute with a cheeky little grin.

"Well, it just so happens that one of the people authorised to hand out Auror medallions, like this one," said Harry as he pulled out the wallet and flipped it open under Percy's nose, "is The Minster. At least I am assuming he is because he's the one who gave it to me. So forgive me if I think I came by it legitimately." Percy seemed determined to remain unimpressed and his face twitched only a little as Harry left the medallion swinging in Percy's face.

"When did you see Kingsley, Harry?" said Arthur. Harry spun around with a start.

"Er, this afternoon, at Hogwarts," he said quickly. "How's Ginny?"

"She'll be through the Floo any minute," Arthur said, smiling. Harry stuffed the wallet back into his pocket.

"Is she all right then?" he asked and Arthur nodded.

"The Healer eventually cleared her; she's more embarrassed than anything else. So you lot," Arthur eyed his sons in turn, "just keep your thoughts to yourself." Ginny's brothers murmured and shuffled their feet in gestures that Harry took to mean they'd do as they'd been told. The Floo flared to life and Harry and Arthur took a step back to allow Ginny followed closely by her mother to step out. As soon as she was clear of the fireplace Molly started brushing ash from Ginny's hair and shoulders and generally fussing over her daughter. Ginny stood stock still, her hands shoved in her pockets, studying the floor intently.

"I thought we'd never get out of there," said Molly, moving to brush ash from Arthur. "Honestly the amount of paperwork those Healers can generate defies belief. They had me sign at least six pieces of paper before they realised Ginny is of age and then she had to sign them all again.

"Oh hello, Percy dear. It's lovely to see you. George sit on that chair properly, legs down! Here Ron, you take this bag back upstairs and fetch Hermione and see if her parents would like to join us. Bill, stop slouching in that doorway and let your wife into the kitchen to sit down, let's all have a cup of hot chocolate. Charlie, if you insist on leaning on the sideboard, get the cups out of it." Molly spoke and moved like a whirlwind as she moved through the kitchen, ending up at the stove, her wand working frantically to pour milk and measure cocoa.

"Come on, everybody sit," Molly said pulling out a random chair as if to prove her point. "We'll have a cup of hot chocolate and then its bed for everyone I think; it's been a long day."

Harry stood uncertainly for a moment as Ginny continued to study the floor. He hadn't seen Ginny since they'd arrived at St Mungo's several hours earlier. Harry Potter arriving with a young woman in his arms had the distinct disadvantage of calling unwanted attention to them but also had the distinct benefit of having them whisked quickly through the reception area, bypassing the line in front of the Welcome Witch and heading straight to the Fourth Floor. Ginny had been levitated into a tiny room; the door banging shut on Harry and her parents with a finality that could not be denied.

Now, back at home, Ginny was still wearing the clothes he'd last seen her in and although she looked tired and rumpled she did not look as pale as she had then. But she looked so closed off that at first Harry was unsure what to do. Then she looked up at him and it was all the prompting he needed to reach out and pull her into a hug.

"All right?" he murmured into her hair as she buried her face into his neck, sliding her arms around his waist. She nodded imperceptibly as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. They stood on the hearth in silence, the clang of a spoon stirring the hot chocolate and the thud of Charlie setting out a row of cups the only sounds.

When he heard the chairs scraping on the floor and the soft pop as the flame on the stove went out Harry knew that the hot chocolate was ready. Reaching a hand around his body he grasped one of Ginny's hands and pulled her to the table. She sat down, letting her hair fall like a curtain around her face. It tore at his heart to see Ginny so unsure of herself and Harry reached out and gently pulled her hair back, tucking it behind her ear and trailing his hand down to caress the back of her neck. With his free hand he pushed a cup of hot chocolate into her hands and Ginny raised it to her lips, giving him a wan smile as she took a sip.

Letting out a small sigh of relief Harry picked up his own cup. No one had said anything for such a long time that Harry was startled when Ginny suddenly spoke.

"Is Dora alright?"

"Yeah, she's fine," said Ron, waltzing back into the kitchen and snatching a biscuit as his mother brought a large plate of them to the table. "The witch at the Magical Menagerie said that the adra … adri-"

"Adrenaline rush," interjected Hermione from the doorway.

"Yeah that," continued Ron, "helped protect her or something." He stuffed the entire biscuit in his mouth as he sat down and pulled a cup towards himself.

" 'Mnotgonnap'tendIknowwhashmen'," he mumbled, barely audible and spraying crumbs across the table.

"You're disgusting, Ron," said Ginny wrinkling her nose and flicking a crumb back at him.

"So, Harry," said Charlie, "are you going to finish your story now?"

"What story is that?" asked Ginny. Harry felt all eyes in the room on him.

"Have you got your Hogwarts letter, Harry?" asked Hermione suddenly. Harry nodded and drank a mouthful of hot chocolate, wondering where to start.

"Well, have you opened it mate?" demanded Ron. "Where is it?" For one heart stopping moment Harry couldn't remember what he'd done with it. Then he realised that it was still in the pocket of the rather ragged looking robes that he was still wearing over his jeans and T-shirt. Hastily, he searched for the letter, finally pulling out a now crumpled parchment envelope. Harry deliberately placed the envelope carefully on the table in front of him.

"At this rate it'll be time to get on the Express," muttered Ron. "For Merlin's sake Harry, open it or I will!"

"You seem awfully keen to see that opened, Ron," said Harry with a cheeky grin.

"Well it's just dragging it out, isn't it," stated Ron rationally. "Sooner you open that and put Hermione out of her misery, sooner we can get back to when you saw Kingsley and explain what's in your pocket."

"What on earth are you talking about, Ron?" asked Ginny irritably.

"Harry has an Auror's medallion," said Percy, looking as though he had just swallowed a lemon, "which is a curious circumstance."

"Have you really, Harry?" asked Arthur sitting up sharply. Harry nodded and pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to Arthur.

"But I thought you were going back to Hogwarts?" said Molly frowning. Harry nodded and sipped his hot chocolate. He knew he was driving them all mad with curiosity and smiled slightly.

"I saw Hagrid today," he began conversationally. "He and Grawp both looked well." Ron growled at him.

"The Castle's looking in excellent shape," he continued. Ginny reached over and snatched his Hogwarts letter. Harry laughed. "Oi! That's my letter! You can't open my post!"

"Stop me," she said as she stretched her arm out to put the letter out of his reach. Harry reached across her to try and grab the letter but she laughed and leapt out of her seat, darting across the kitchen. She stood breathless at the other end of the kitchen holding the letter and slowly running a finger towards the seal. Harry gave chase and, completely ignoring the rest of her family still sitting at the table, he pinned her to the edge of the kitchen sink with his body as she squealed and tried to get away, the letter hidden behind her back.

Harry reached both arms around her, his fingers closing on the letter and he could feel her breath on his neck. His eyes travelled up the length of her neck and along her cheekbone until he lost himself in her eyes. They were sparkling with mischief and he was acutely aware of the way her chest heaved against his own. His eyes travelled down to her lips and he felt drawn to them and bent his head to kiss her. He was inches from her lips when suddenly someone cleared their throat and Harry jerked his head up quickly, blushing as he remembered where he was. With a triumphant smirk he wrestled the letter from Ginny's grasp and held it above his head.

Ginny put her hands on his chest and Harry thought he'd die from the exquisite torture as she stroked his torso where her family couldn't see what she was doing to him. He twisted away from her with great difficulty and made a big show of opening the letter. Percy was scowling at him but he pretended not to notice as he pulled a sheaf of parchment from the envelope. As he unfolded it something fell from the folded sheets and sparkled as it spun its way to the floor. With lightning fast Seeker's reflexes Harry snatched it out of the air inches from the floor and Charlie let out a low whistle.

"Those are some reflexes, Potter," he said with admiration. "The Quidditch Cup is Gryffindor's this year for sure!"

"Ah, finally admitting Harry's the best Seeker we've ever had?" said George laughing but Harry didn't join in as he stared at the shiny badge in his hand and swore softly.

"What's wrong, Harry?" asked Ginny putting a hand on his arm. Silently Harry handed her the badge and Hermione must have figured out what it was because she tore across the room and engulfed him in a hug to rival one of Molly Weasley's.

"Oh Harry!" she exclaimed. "Isn't that wonderful? Oh I'm so happy for you!"

"I'm not," grumbled Harry. "This is your fault." He pointed an accusing finger at Ron.

"What did I do?" asked Ron indignantly. Harry plucked the badge from Ginny's grasp and tossed it to Ron.

"If you were coming back that would be yours!" Ron caught the badge and smiled.

"No way mate," he said, getting up and trying to pin the badge to Harry's robes. "There is no way that Head Boy badge was going to anyone else this year." Harry sighed heavily as he fought Ron off before eventually submitting to having the badge pinned to his chest.

"Yes, because I need extra attention," he grumbled as Molly beamed at him.

"Look George," said Ron, pushing Harry and Hermione together like he was setting them up for a photograph, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. "We've got a matching set. Don't they look all grown up?"

"How am I supposed to do all this?" said Harry exasperatedly. "Does McGonagall expect me to be Head Boy _and_ Captain the Quidditch Team _and_-" he stopped abruptly.

"And what Harry?" Ginny asked quietly. Harry took a deep breath as he pushed Ron's hand away from buffing the glittering Head Boy badge still pinned to his rumpled and stained robes.

"I know why there is no Seventh Year Defence text," he said heavily.

"Why not?" Hermione leaned towards him eagerly, clearly anxious to learn this piece of news.

"Because there's no professor," he said simply. Hermione studied him carefully but didn't say anything.

"They don't have a Defence teacher?" asked Ginny incredulously. "That's got to be the stupidest thing I have ever heard. They haven't been able to find anyone? Anyone at all?"

"Oh, there is a Defence teacher," clarified Harry. "Just not for the Seventh Years."

"Well, that's not fair!" Ginny cried at the same time that Hermione gasped.

"It's because of you, isn't it?" she asked shrewdly and Harry nodded. "That's why Professor McGonagall wanted to see you."

"Lucius Malfoy has managed to wrangle his way back onto the Governor's Board, and the Board, in its wisdom, has decided that only an Auror can be the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," Harry explained. "The Auror Department is a little depleted at the moment and finding one has been difficult. They found one but he refuses to teach me."

"So either you drop Defence or none of the Seventh Years can do Defence?" asked Hermione, frowning. Harry nodded.

"McGonagall and Kingsley are concerned about public opinion and the legitimacy of the course if Harry Potter does not take Defence Against the Dark Arts," said Harry heavily.

"Well, I can imagine that would cause some surprise and yes the letters home would raise a few eyebrows," murmured Hermione. "I'm sure we can trust Rita Skeeter to make up something outrageous to explain that."

"Hang on!" said Ron. "You've suddenly got an Auror medallion." Harry stood waiting for the pieces to fall into place and it took only seconds for Hermione to figure out what had happened.

"You're teaching Seventh Year Defence Against the Dark Arts!"

"In a manner of speaking," he said, shrugging. "It's just to get around the red tape. It seems to have been Dumbledore's idea."

Ron frowned at him.

"His portrait self was looking mighty smug," continued Harry. "I got the impression that Malfoy was being difficult about the Auror stipulation. Personally I think McGonagall and Kingsley wanted to wave two fingers at Malfoy and the Board. Kingsley seems to have created a new Auror Division, of which I am currently the only employee. McGonagall says I don't have to actually teach anything – apparently I already did all that back in our fifth year." He smiled a little wryly.

The kitchen erupted and Molly soon had him in a bone crushing hug of congratulations. A short time later, when things had settled down and the dregs of the hot chocolate had been drunk, Bill, Fleur and Percy began to get ready to go home. Harry was sitting at the table tracing patterns on Ginny's back as she leant against him. She had so far avoided her mother's attempts to send her to bed but it wouldn't be long before Molly started on her again. Harry was contemplating what it would take to get Ginny alone when Ron suddenly let out a shout of laughter.

"You know what this means mate?" he asked, reaching out and buffing the Head Boy badge again. "You do have the power to give Draco Malfoy detention!"

***************

When Harry came down to breakfast the following morning, he discovered that Ginny was still in bed. He endured stoically as Molly launched into a long-winded explanation of why Ginny should be allowed to have a lie in, until George beckoned him from the doorway. Grabbing a piece of toast and glancing at Molly sideways as she waved her wand in intricate patterns over the stove, Harry hurried to the backdoor.

"Come outside," George hissed. "We've got time. Ron convinced Hermione to go up to your room for a snuggle after she heard you come down." Harry frowned at George.

"What are you on about?" he hissed back. "Are you trying to lure me outside so you all can grill me about my intentions?"

"Oh sod your intentions, Harry," said George, pulling on his arm. "I reckon you could declare your intentions to shag Ginny sideways right now and no one would care. 'Cept maybe Percy. But he's a git." Harry flushed a deep shade of red at the implications and allowed George to drag him out of the house.

"Okay," said George after he and Harry were standing several feet from the house. "I was thinking last night and I went down to the shop and dug up some old papers me and Fred drew up a couple years ago. I'd forgotten all about them. When we opened the shop we sort of wrote a will. It's not official or anything so I need your help."

"I don't know anything about wills," said Harry. "I don't know anything about legal stuff. It's not like I even made a will." Now that he thought about it that was possibly quite short sighted of him. Then he sighed, there was another thing on the growing list of Things To Do before he went back to Hogwarts.

"Oh, don't worry about official legal stuff," George waved a hand impatiently. "I need your help because you're the third share in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes." Harry stared at him.

"I am?"

"Yeah," said George, looking at him with one eyebrow raised. "Technically you and me each own half right now. Course, _practically_, we took your share and invested it back into the shop. It's not like you've earned any money." Harry rolled his eyes at George.

"According to these not legal, not official documents you and Fred wrote?"

"Yep, pretty much!" said George cheerfully.

"And apparently, also according documents of dubious origin, Fred left half his share to you and half to me?"

"Well in a manner of speaking," shrugged George. "His third is dissolved and divided between us." Harry nodded. He was fairly sure that he almost understood.

"So, what's the plan?"

"Plan?"

"Yes, George, the plan?" asked Harry patiently.

"IwannagiveFredsharetoRon," George rattled off rapidly. Harry blinked.

"You want to-"

"Give Fred's share to Ron," finished George, slower this time.

"Like an inheritance?"

"We didn't write a proper will," admitted George showing Harry a piece of parchment. "We should have. Bit short sighted of us really, but one night we wrote this." Harry looked at the parchment. There was nothing on it. He turned it over several times before shrugging.

"There's nothing here," he said. George looked at him pityingly.

"Sometimes Harry, I wonder at your lack of resourcefulness." Getting out his wand George waved it around for a moment.

"I solemnly swear that I'm allowed to read this," he muttered and Harry burst out laughing. George looked offended. "Well, Fred did write the first one in invisible ink but we couldn't remember which brand it was and which remedy would allow us to see it and which would permanently erase it." Harry watched as iridescent purple ink began to scrawl across the parchment as if of its own accord.

_If We're Dead_ was sprawled across the top in loopy writing.

"That's cheery," muttered Harry as he watched the rest of the writing appear. George shrugged. The short note was written in two hands. One purple and one lime green.

"Fred had the purple ink," murmured George. "We had a fight over that because I wanted it and he was being stupid and wouldn't let me put my quill in that pot." He fell silent and Harry turned his attention to the writing now complete on the parchment.

'_We need to decide what happens if we're dead, Fred._

_You or me?_

_We should cover every eventuality._

_I'm not planning on being dead, George._

_Well, neither am I, but these things happen._

_Let's give the shop to Harry._

_Okay, did we give him a third?_

_Technically. Did we tell him that?_

_I don't think so._

_If it's just me who's dead, you can have half and Harry can have half._

_Sounds good, Fred. Same if it's me._

_No way, George, I'm keeping the entire thing!_

_Let's hope for Harry's sake it's you then, Fred.'_

Harry smiled as he read it although his eyes were suspiciously wet when he got to the end.

"So you want to give Fred's third to Ron instead?" he asked. George nodded.

"Yeah, it seems fair."

"I disagree," said Harry decisively.

"But he's put in all this work and he's got some really good ideas, Harry," George looked shocked. "I thought you'd go for this!"

"I don't need a share, George," he said, before George really got going. "I didn't even know I had a share."

"Well, admittedly you've never had a say in your share or seen any of the profits but-"

"Exactly," interrupted Harry. "I'm not going to miss it am I? And I think any debt for the start up money has been repaid." They both fell silent. Harry studied his shoes intently.

"So if you don't want to give Fred's share to Ron, what _do_ you want to do?" George asked eventually.

"Give my share to Ron," said Harry raising his head to look at George. "You said we both have a half share right now, so give my half to Ron." George nodded slowly.

"I should have known you'd say that," he said, sighing. "I don't know where my brain is at half the time these days. It's just as well Ron's around really, nearly blew myself up making a potion yesterday. He stopped me adding the wormwood too soon. Can you imagine having to front up to the afterlife and look Snape in the eye after that? Fred always used to stop me buggering up the potions. Without Ron, I might end up on the other side prematurely. Which I thought about, you know." George had trailed off to a whisper and was staring over the horizon. Harry sensed how much that admission had cost him.

"Did you ever think about that, Harry?" George asked. "Just ending it?"

"Yeah," admitted Harry. "Right after Sirius died. It didn't last long though." George shook his head.

"Nah, I don't feel that way anymore," he replied. The two of them stood in silence, watching the sun light up the garden. "So you're giving half to Ron?"

"Yeah, but don't tell him that," said Harry. "No one knows I even had a third and Ron gets … funny about things like that."

"Ginny knows you had a third," interjected George. "Manipulative that one; can get all sorts of information out of you."

"Just tell him he's inherited Fred's half," said Harry, laughing. "He's not going to argue with a will. He's also not going to want to see it. Paperwork is not his thing."

"What about explaining it to Ginny?"

"She won't care," shrugged Harry. "She knows what's in my vault. I think she knows better than I do actually. Besides she would have made the same decision."

"She gets to decide things with you, doesn't she, Harry?" asked George suddenly and Harry nodded. "I don't think Percy understands that." Harry just growled.

"Percy thinks we're too young and too involved," he ground out.

"Just because he took six years to work up to a marriage proposal," scoffed George. "He said last night that Ginny needed to take her time and explore her options. He's completely off his rocker. Options? He thinks some bloke out there is going to understand her better than you? That there are better options than the man who worships the ground she walks on? He's completely mental if he thinks she's going to find someone who loves her more than you do." Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet in embarrassment.

"Don't be embarrassed, Harry," said George urgently. "You've got to stand up to Percy and tell him that. He's about as perceptive as a cauldron bottom. Just tell him."

"Last night, Ron and Bill said that I have to stand up to Percy," said Harry slowly.

"There you are then," said George impatiently. "It's unanimous."

"Well Charlie …" mumbled Harry. George waved an impatient hand.

"Do we really need to ask him?"

Harry sighed heavily. He didn't want to cause a scene. He didn't want to make Percy leave. He didn't want to be the cause of any more grief. Why couldn't Percy just see this the way everyone else in the family had? A shout from the back door roused him from his contemplation.

"George! Are we opening before noon?" Ron called. "Stop interrogating Harry and eat something!" George turned to the house, grumbling.

"Who's he channelling, Mum?"

"What were you guys talking about?" asked Ron as Harry and George sat down at the table. Molly was sipping a cup of tea, reading a recipe book and Charlie was reading the paper. Ginny and Hermione were nowhere to be seen.

"Percy," said George quickly before Harry could dismiss it as nothing. Ron started grumbling.

"Dozy git. No idea that one."

"Ronald Weasley!" exclaimed his mother. "I will not have you talking about your brother like that!"

"Even if it's true?" asked Charlie looking up from the paper. Molly huffed and turned back to the recipe book.

"See, she agrees with us," said Ron stabbing the air with a piece of toast in his mother's general direction and turning to Harry. "You have to talk to Percy."

"Just drop it," said Harry tersely.

"Ginny will Bat-Bogey him if she hears what we heard last night," warned Charlie.

"Not if Hermione gets to him first," muttered Ron. "You should have heard her go off about it."

"You will all leave your brother alone," said Molly as she stood up, clutching the recipe book. "It's his birthday on Saturday and I will not have it ruined by you lot. He hasn't had a birthday at home with us for three years."

"Guess we'd better get him a present then," murmured George looking sideways at Ron. Harry saw them exchange a look that he would only describe as mischievous and decided he was looking forward to it.

"Yes, I think you should," said Molly decisively as she went into the scullery. Charlie leaned forward urgently.

"You've got to speak to Percy before Saturday, Harry," he whispered. "Ginny will hex him for sure by the end of the night if he is still being a git."

"How?" asked Harry listlessly. "He'll be at work." Charlie shook his head.

"Honestly, they told me you were intelligent!" he said exasperatedly. George snorted and Ron grinned. "Make an appointment with him at work."

"Who do you want an appointment with?" asked Arthur cheerily as he breezed into the kitchen.

"Percy," chorused his sons.

"Ah," was all Arthur said as he sat down and buttered his toast.

"Fine," grumbled Harry, "you win."

"I'll catch him for you today, Harry," said Arthur, "tomorrow alright? Probably best to set him straight before the party on Saturday. You don't want Molly upset." Harry sighed; even Arthur thought he needed to talk to Percy.

"Tomorrow's fine," he said morosely and Ron clapped him on the back soundly, making him drop his spoon into his cereal with a splash. Hermione swept into the kitchen.

"Good morning everyone!"

"See, she's more cheery if we get to snuggle," muttered Ron in an undertone.

"I don't want to know," Harry murmured back. He raised his voice to address Hermione. "Is Ginny up yet?" Hermione looked at him apologetically.

"No," she said softly. "I think she's awake though. But she didn't answer me when I spoke to her." Harry looked longingly at the kitchen door, willing her to appear. That didn't sound like Ginny. She'd been up for breakfast every day even though it was the summer holidays; she hadn't been a layabout in bed. She'd told him it was because she wanted to spend all her time with him. She had seemed all right the night before when he'd kissed her goodnight on the stairs. He forced his mind back to Hermione who was still talking.

"-because I really do think it's not good enough that people can get away with just using Unforgivables," she said, waving a fork as if to accentuate her point.

"But it was war, Hermione," argued Ron. "Besides, you put every little Slytherin on trial you'll have to put Harry right up there with them!" The room fell silent. Harry could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He hadn't given much thought to the fact that he'd used Unforgivable Curses during the last days of the war and he looked up worriedly at Hermione who was biting her lip.

"But the Death Eaters have already been put on trial and I'm sure their use of Unforgivables has been examined," she said. Harry could barely hear her over the rushing in his ears.

"What if they do want to do that to Harry?" demanded Ron. The room blurred and Harry dropped his spoon again. The clang as it hit the side of the bowl seemed loud in the stillness.

"No one's putting Harry on trial," said Arthur softly. "There's no record of him performing Unforgivables. Amycus Carrow was accusing him but Kingsley could find no witnesses. Professor McGonagall seemed to think something had addled Carrow's brain." Harry forced himself to take a few deep breaths. The bile was rising in his throat.

"Bill said the goblins were a bit confused," added Charlie. "They couldn't quite remember what happened when Harry paid them a visit."

"Technically Unforgivables were legal at the time," Arthur said with a grimace. "I believe the prosecutors have had trouble having them admitted as an accusation."

"Yeah, put the Death Eaters on trial, but you can't do that to all the kids who were just doing as they were told," Ron continued softly. "War changes things." Harry wasn't so sure that it did at that moment. At the time everything had seemed logical and right but now he was fighting the urge to throw up.

"Well they should be expelled," insisted Hermione. "And Malfoy, he shouldn't be allowed back in school! And making him a Prefect, what was Professor McGonagall thinking?"

"He never wanted to be a Death Eater, Hermione," said Ron. "Oh he's still a slimy git, but he's no Death Eater; besides the Slytherins need a leader. If there's a void there who knows what sort of twisted little antics those ferals will come up with. McGonagall knows exactly what she's doing.

"Like Ginny said, too many of the little brats know how to use the Cruciatus Curse now. They need someone to keep them in line and Slytherins aren't likely to look up to Harry here. Whether we like it or not, Malfoy still has some sort of influence."

"Well I hope someone's going to be very firm about the fact that the rules have changed back," said Hermione firmly.

"That's why you're Head Girl, Hermione," smiled Ron. "Who better? And that's why Harry's Head Boy. Everyone looks up to Harry, having anyone else would be redundant."

"They shouldn't," Harry mumbled, stumbling to his feet, intent on getting some fresh air. He was losing the battle with the contents of his stomach as he struggled to the door, knocking over his chair as he stood. The memories of Bellatrix Lestrange in the Ministry and of Imperiused goblins and Amycus Carrow in the Ravenclaw Common Room were whirling through his head, at odds with Ron repeating 'everyone looks up to Harry'.

"Harry, are you all right?" he heard Hermione say. Her voice sounded distant and he didn't answer her as he clattered down the back step.

"Harry!" He knew Ron and Hermione were on his heels as he reached the lawn and promptly leaned over and vomited onto a biting rose bush. Ron pulled him back as the bush tried to bite him and he and Hermione led Harry to a bench on the edge of the lawn. Ron pushed him down onto the seat and Hermione conjured a glass of water and pressed it into his hand. He took a huge gulp and dropped his head into his free hand.

"Harry," Hermione started. "You … it's different."

"How?" asked Harry miserably. "How is it different?"

"Well cause they were the bad guys," said Ron simply as he dropped onto the seat next to Harry.

"It's not that simple Ron."

"Yeah, it is," insisted Ron. "They did bad things first."

"Do you know why I used the Cruciatus Curse on Carrow?" asked Harry bitterly. "Because he insulted Professor McGonagall. Cruciatus is pretty severe for an insult wouldn't you say?"

"Yeah, but provocation mate," said Ron. "They did much worse than that all year."

"Does that make it better?" Harry asked, downing the last of the water and twirling the glass in his hands.

"Well, I think your reaction to it does," said Hermione softly as she sank down on his other side. "You're not exactly revelling in it are you? Anyway, I think if it came to it and anyone wanted to try you, there'd certainly be grounds to grant a pardon."

"Yeah, for services to the community or something," said Ron thoughtfully. "Bit of an understatement though isn't it?"

"Pretty big service," said Hermione. Ron snorted. Harry looked at him sideways and then glanced at Hermione who was trying to hide a grin.

"Thanks for saving the world, Mr Potter," said Ron in an officious voice. "For that fine effort we'd like to keep you out of Azkaban. Here have a plaque, its self shining." Harry started laughing and soon the three of them were chuckling helplessly as they tried not to slide off the bench and onto the ground.

"Thanks," said Harry quietly when the laughter had subsided.

"It's truly not the same Harry," said Hermione.

"I'm not doing it again," replied Harry quietly. "It's hard enough to live with things as it is. I just don't normally think about it."

"I expect there's a lot of things we'd all rather not think about," mused Ron. The three of them sat in silence for a moment. Harry's thoughts wandered to Ginny and he wondered what she was thinking and feeling.

"We're leaving for the shop soon," said Ron, breaking into his thoughts. "You coming or … Ginny?"

"I'll just go up and see her," said Harry, glancing up at the house. He started to get up and Hermione grabbed his hand. Harry turned around.

"I don't think she slept well last night," she said softly. "I – I didn't want to say anything before, in front of everybody." Harry nodded tightly a lump forming in his throat. He squeezed Hermione's hand.

"Thanks," he whispered around the lump and let go of her hand to go back inside.

*******************

Moving boxes and stocking shelves at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes gave Harry's mind plenty of time to think about Ginny. She had locked her bedroom door after Hermione had left for breakfast and wouldn't let anyone in – not even him. He could still feel the smooth wood under his forehead as he leant against it, straining to hear her through the door. She had eventually told him she just wanted to sleep and to go to the shop with Ron and so he had let Ron drag him out the door, but he'd been so distracted all day that he'd been precious little help.

"Oi! Potter!" he heard George call from the front of the shop. Harry was in the store room looking for some fake wands and he had no idea how long he'd been in there. Grabbing a box randomly he wandered back out to the front of the store and listlessly handed it to George who was standing near the counter which had been moved to near the window during the refit he and Ron had done.

"You want to go get some lunch, Harry?" asked Ron. Harry shook his head. "You have to eat. Mum'll kill us if we don't feed you."

"I'm not hungry," answered Harry dispiritedly, slumping into a nearby chair behind the counter.

"That's just a travesty, mate," answered Ron, shaking his head. Harry paid little interest as George pushed Ron out the door. He was too consumed with thoughts of Ginny. Why wouldn't she talk to him that morning? How was she feeling? Would she let him in when he got home? His thoughts were interrupted by George pushing a packet into his hands. The shop was quiet with only two boys who looked like they might be starting Second Year whispering to each other and pointing at Harry while Verity served them.

"Can you write some price tags?" George said. Harry looked up. He got the distinct impression that George was searching for things to keep him occupied. George dumped a pile of something grey and shapeless on the counter. "Four Sickles each."

"What are they?" Harry asked his interest suddenly piqued.

"Vanishing handkerchiefs," said George. "Anything under them disappears. Downright useful if you're trying to hide little things." He rummaged about under the counter and pulled out a stack of small bags with _'Vanishing Handkerchief'_ printed on them.

"Does seem useful," murmured Harry putting a quill, then a coin and then the packet of price tags under a square of fabric. He watched as the fabric blended in with the counter.

"Here, put them in the bags and label them," said George. He paused for a moment before he spoke again, in a completely different tone. "She loves you. Don't think she doesn't." Harry looked up sharply.

"I know she does. It's not that. I just – she … we talk about things," he said quietly. "I don't know what to do when she doesn't talk at all. She doesn't talk about some things. She thinks I haven't noticed but stuff to do with last year, she doesn't talk about it. But she's never shut herself away before. She lets me hold her. We talk about something else until she smiles. I tell her how much I love her and I can tell she feels better. I _want_ to help her feel better. If I can't do that, I feel useless."

"I don't know why Percy can't see it," muttered George, shaking his head. He sat down next to Harry. "Ginny'll probably be ready to talk when you get home. Verity reckons sometimes girls need space or something. I dunno I stopped listening after about thirty seconds. Besides, you're not useless. You've been a very good box carrier today … even if we do have six boxes of puking pastilles out here and no fake wands."

"Sorry," muttered Harry, writing '14 Galleons' on one of the labels. George took the quill away from him.

"Why don't you go and help Verity?" he said, shaking his head again. Harry got up and wandered over to where Verity was dusting a shelf behind the register. A large neon sign proclaiming the re-opening hung in the window behind her. Ron and George had spent an evening with their father in his shed trying to get it to flash using magic. Arthur had been fascinated but Molly had just asked why they didn't just charm a sign to flash. The three wizards had just shaken their heads at her ruefully. The sign now flashed in the window of number ninety-three. Harry gazed out at Diagon Alley, past Verity's duster and the flashing sign.

It was busier than it had been last time he was here. Witches and wizards hurried up and down the crowded street, he could see small children darting between the shoppers and Hogwarts students with packages of books and robes. Harry leaned on the windowsill and watched as three boys approached, each carrying shiny new cauldrons and assorted packages that Harry knew were books and robes. He thought they must be First Years. The boys stopped in front of the window, perhaps lured by the flashing sign. Harry watched in amusement as the blond boy in the middle made eye contact, his jaw dropping.

Without breaking the eye contact, the boy nudged each of his friends with his elbows. Soon all three boys were staring, open mouthed at Harry who smiled and tipped his head towards the door. The boys looked at each other uncertainly before they shuffled as one to the door and pushed it open cautiously. As the last one timidly stepped inside Ron came barrelling through, knocking the smallest headfirst into a large bin of trick wands. The child's legs waved helplessly in the air and his muffled shouts rang through the shop. Ron grabbed the back of his robes, tossing the parcel in his hands to Harry who caught it with ease. Hauling the small boy out, Ron set him on his feet.

"Sorry about that!" he said cheerfully. "Didn't mean to upend you." The boy looked up slowly at Ron, who towered above him. Harry chuckled quietly imagining the boy's reaction to Hagrid when they stepped off the train at Hogwarts. The noise drew the gaze of the other two boys and they looked at him solemnly for a moment. Finally the blond child who had first noticed Harry seemed to shake himself out of his stupor and he took a step towards Harry and held out his hand, offering it formally for Harry to shake.

"Good afternoon," the child intoned, in what he had probably been taught were good manners. "My name is Othello and it is a pleasure to meet you." Harry stuck his hand out in return.

"Harry Potter, good to meet you too," he said. "Are you shopping for your Hogwarts things?" The boys nodded.

"Just need to get our wands now," volunteered the third boy. He had mousy brown hair and mischievous glint in his eye. "Dexter's still got his birthday money though. I've been trying to talk him out of getting a toad. No one has toads anymore." He rolled his eyes expressively. Dexter was obviously the one Ron had knocked into the bin of wands because he scowled as he turned to his friend.

"How do you know that!" he scoffed. "For all you know, everyone might have a toad!"

"No, they really don't," said Ron carelessly. "Only Neville's got a toad. I don't think anyone else ever had a toad. You should get an owl. Dead useful, an owl." The boy's face fell.

"I don't think I can afford an owl," he said. Ron squatted down in front of Dexter and looked him straight in the eye.

"Well having a toad isn't such a terrible thing and Trevor might like a friend," he said.

"Who's Trevor?"

"Neville's toad," volunteered Harry. "I can introduce you when we get to Hogwarts if you like. Neville must know heaps about looking after toads."

"Are you going to Hogwarts this year?" asked Othello, his eyes wide. Harry nodded.

"Wicked," breathed Dexter. Harry didn't get a chance to answer because at that moment a heavily made up and finely manicured woman, her arms bristling with parcels, burst through to door of the shop.

"Hamish! There you are! What are you doing in here? I have been looking for you everywhere!" she shrieked. The mousy headed boy grimaced. "And _what_ have I told you about talking to strangers?" She eyed Ron rather distastefully and he hurriedly stood up and straightened out his robes.

"We're not talking to strangers Mum," sighed Hamish, rolling his eyes. "And the war's over now you can stop panicking like, every five seconds." Hamish's mother was not placated.

"I have been _entrusted_ with the care of your little friends and I take that responsibility seriously, young man," she said firmly. "I don't care if you are talking to Harry Bloody Potter himself; you do not just wander off like that!" Harry stifled a snort and Ron turned blue as he held his breath in an effort not to laugh. The boys went red with embarrassment and glanced sideways at Harry who was managing not to laugh, barely. Hamish's finely manicured mother went on.

"Just five minutes, I ask you to wait while I visit the facilities and do you stay there? No, you wander off," she ranted. "You had me absolutely _sick _with worry, I was about to find an Auror and file a missing persons report! You mark my words, your father is going to hear about this little escapade and you two – your mothers _will_ be told. There will be something to say about this! Now come along. We're getting your wands and going _straight_ home." She strode to the door and held it open imperiously. The three boys shuffled their feet and gathered their packages.

"Seeya," said Hamish softly. Ron grabbed at something on a shelf hastily and dropped three small items into Dexter's cauldron as he passed by.

"Use those on Filch, the caretaker," he whispered and the three boys grinned at him as they moved to the door. Ron grinned back, "or the Head Boy. I heard he's a real stickler." The door shut after them as they were hurried out the door and down the street. Harry watched through the window as they went and Dexter and Hamish turned to wave. Harry waved back and then chuckled as Hamish's mother turned around to berate them but caught sight of Harry instead. Her eyes widened and a flush stained her cheeks. Harry waved at her cheekily and she returned the wave timidly before turning and hustling the boys away.

The afternoon was a blur to Harry. He stayed behind the counter to help Verity and was clearly visible from the street. A number of people came in to see Harry Potter and left with a purchase.

"We should have put you in the window this morning mate," said Ron as he wrapped up a package of Wonderwitch products for a young girl who was staring avidly at Harry. The shop was crowded and she stumbled into four display bins, two other customers and a stuffed dragon that George had enchanted to breathe fire at shoplifters, before making it to the door.

"Yeah and have half the customers so star struck they can't walk in a straight line?" asked Harry sceptically.

"Well, that is an unfortunate side effect …"

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes did a roaring trade all afternoon and Verity taught Harry how to ring up the sales. He found the hustle and bustle and the people distracted him and kept his thoughts from dwelling on Ginny too much and how she was doing. He still couldn't wait to see her, to find out if she was all right, but the wait was easier now that his mind was occupied.

******************

George, Ron and Harry Apparated into the garden at The Burrow shortly before tea time. Hermione was sitting in a lawn chair reading a book and looked up at the sound of Ron's barking laughter.

"I thought that old man was going to faint when you put his stuff through the till," said Ron. "I loved watching people's faces today. It was fabulous."

"Yes, Ron," said Harry. "It was bloody wonderful. You aren't the one with squashed fingers from the hand shaking."

"It's a good job Fred and I had stocked up on bruise paste," said George. "Although I think the first order of business tomorrow is to move that rack of punching telescopes from next to the counter. If people would just look where they are going, they wouldn't get smacked in the face. That never used to be a problem."

"Harry never used to be standing there distracting people," smirked Ron. "How many marriage proposals did you get today, mate?" Harry rolled his eyes as Hermione made her way over the grass to meet them as they wandered towards the house.

"It was only one," he protested. "And I don't think you can take marriage proposals from four year olds seriously, Ron."

"Her mother looked mighty interested however," laughed Ron.

"And hot," added George.

"And I didn't see a ring on her finger," continued Ron as Hermione reached them and he snaked an arm around her waist.

"Well, she's not going to get very far with me," said Harry grumpily as he watched Ron and Hermione greet each other and wondered where Ginny was.

"She might get somewhere with me," answered George, puffing out his chest. "Or should I say, I might get somewhere with her." Harry shook his head.

"You got a date, with her, didn't you?"

"Sure did!" said George proudly. "With her and another with a sweet, sweet witch named Felicity."

"You're incorrigible," said Hermione, as they pushed open the door and entered the kitchen.

"I do try," was all George said as he greeted his mother with a kiss and headed to the pantry.

"George, tea's nearly ready!" Molly scolded at his retreating back. George mumbled something indistinguishable from the depths of the pantry before popping his head back out.

"Mother, your feats in the kitchen render me unable to wait," he retreated back into the tiny room and Molly turned to Ron.

"He's in a very good mood," she whispered.

"Women," Ron whispered back. His mum looked more worried than mollified by this but she didn't comment.

"How did it go today, dears," she asked instead as she resumed directing knives with her wand.

"Oh it was brilliant mum," George said re-emerging from the pantry and picking up two of the potatoes lying on the table and beginning to juggle them. "Mind you, it doesn't hurt to have Harry Potter sitting in the window!" Molly levitated the potatoes back to the table and directed them under the knives. Soon they were peeling and chopping with precision.

"I can't believe you," said Hermione shaking her head. "Harry is not a window decoration!"

"Tell that to the single witches," muttered Ron as he grabbed a piece of carrot.

"Shut up," mumbled Harry as he swiped a piece as well.

"You boys just wait for tea!" Molly scolded, but she was smiling as she slapped at their hands. Harry just grinned at her and George reached over to grab a piece as well.

"I was working, I'll have you know, Hermione," said Harry smugly. "The counter is near the window at the present time."

"Well …" Hermione trailed off she seemed to have no argument for that and Ron slipped his arms around her and pulled her close.

"We would never exploit Harry," he said as he nuzzled her cheek. "And you know it. You just like to have an argument." Hermione blushed.

"I do not," she protested weakly.

"Yeah, you do," said Ron as he kissed her. Harry and George groaned in unison. Molly just sighed wistfully.

"Come outside for a walk with me," Ron said to Hermione as he tugged on her hand. A flushed Hermione agreed and George took a seat at the table, smirking.

"Sure, you go for _a walk_," he said. Harry watched as Ron gestured rudely at George behind Hermione and his mother's back and left.

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked. Molly's face fell.

"She's in her room," she said. "She hasn't been out all day." Harry's eyes darted involuntarily upwards and his stomach clenched.

"All day?" he asked faintly. Molly nodded.

"I don't know what to do," she said softly, directing the vegetables into pots on the stovetop. "She's of age now and she's warded that door with who knows what. Where does anyone learn that sort of privacy charm?" Harry swallowed. He knew exactly where she'd learnt them. The charms Hermione had used in the forests and on the moors when they were camping had come in very handy for stolen moments in The Burrow's garden. Ginny must have been watching him pretty closely.

"I'll just go up and see if she's … ready for tea," he muttered. Molly caught his eye and she smiled at him as if she expected Harry to succeed where she had failed. He hoped he could because he had no idea what he was going to say.

Harry stood uncertainly on the landing and wondered if Ginny would hear him through the enchantments she had cast on the room. He reached out and touched the door. The wood felt smooth under his fingertips. He knocked and then hesitated, his hand reaching for the doorknob. Would he be able to go inside?

His fingers closed around the battered doorknob and it rattled in his hand as he turned it. The hinges let out a protest as Harry pushed on the door and he winced at how loud the sound was in the stillness. He heard a faint rustle from inside the room as he stepped through the doorway.

"Ginny?" he called softly as he looked around the door. Ginny was sitting on her bed, her knees drawn up to her chest and she was staring into space. Harry stepped further into the room. "Can I come in?"

"You already are," replied Ginny. She didn't look at him but kept staring into space.

"Mum said you warded the door," he said as he closed the door behind him.

"Not against you," she whispered, "never against you." Harry stood in the middle of the room, unsure what to do next. He watched as she tilted her head back and leant against the headboard, staring at the ceiling.

"I guess you picked up a few things watching those charms I've been casting," he said eventually. Ginny shook her head and let out a sharp bark of laughter.

"I looked them up last year," she said bitterly. "Death Eaters can get through regular locks. I needed something a little more sophisticated. Something _Alohamora_ couldn't undo." Harry swallowed hard.

"Why did you need-"

"Because they came after me!" Ginny suddenly screeched. She leapt off the bed and stood in front of Harry, her face flushed and her eyes sparkling with tears.

"After _you_ -"

"Yes, they came after me!" Ginny said. "I could hear them stalking me in the hallways. They knew Neville was covering for me and they came after me anyway! Because I was yours; I've always been yours," she finished in a whisper. Harry didn't know what to say or what to do but she held his gaze and he couldn't look away.

"And I know healing charms because someone had to heal the First Years when they weren't allowed to go to the Hospital Wing," she said, wrapping her arms around herself. Harry reached out to her but she shrugged him off and turned away to stare out of the window.

"Ginny …"

"And you left me. You weren't there," she whispered. Harry felt like she'd just wounded him as surely as if she'd plunged a knife into his heart.

"I didn't want to," he said. "It was the last thing I wanted to do."

"I know," she replied, her voice cracking. "I knew it wouldn't be easy going out with Harry Potter. I just didn't know what sort of hard it would be not going out with him."

Harry reached out to her again and this time she let him hold her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry." Ginny turned in his embrace so that her face was buried in his shirt and he felt her let out a sob.

"I missed you," she said. "So much."

"I know," replied Harry as he stroked her hair. "I missed you too." Ginny looked up at him, her brown eyes searching his.

"And everyone thought I knew where you were and what you were doing," she said softly. "They all wanted to know. So I learnt privacy charms."

"Why today?" Harry asked. "Why did you use them today?"

"To keep Mum out," Ginny said simply. Harry didn't believe her.

"Or the demons?" he asked quietly. "You felt safer behind those charms, didn't you?"

Ginny looked away. She didn't say anything so Harry sat down on her bed, pulling her with him. Ginny leaned against his side and he held her close.

"It's been like a dream," she said quietly, "having you home. I didn't want to tell you – anyone, about school because then I'd have to think about it. Remember it. At first, it was like I was floating on air. Even while I was crying over Fred I was walking on air because I was walking with you. And there were too many things going on with you. I pushed it all aside to deal with that. To help you-"

"Ginny-"

"No," she shook her head forcefully, turning to face him. "Don't you dare apologise. I wanted to. I couldn't have done anything else. You needed us, needed me, and your need was definitely greater than mine. Don't be sorry. Please, don't be sorry that you let me help you."

Her eyes bored into his and her tiny hands reached up to caress his neck. Harry knew that he probably wouldn't have made it without her and he shook his head.

"I'm not sorry," he whispered, pulling her towards him until she was in his lap. "Thank you."

Ginny leaned forward and kissed him and he wanted to give himself up and just kiss her back but not until she talked first. He wanted to know what demons were lurking, pushed down in her soul. Physical affection might banish them for now, but they'd still be lurking, waiting. Harry pulled away.

"What did you push aside, Ginny?" he asked. "What haven't you told us?"

"Nothing," she muttered. "Everyone knows everything now. I was at school, I was rebelling, I got in trouble and I got hurt. Neville and Seamus had to cover for me and then I went home."

She withdrew her hands from around his neck and wrapped them around her own body and Harry felt suddenly cold.

"Sure those are the facts," Harry tried again to get her to open up. "But how did you feel? Heck, how are you feeling now?"

Ginny looked up at him, her hands dropped to her sides.

"How did I feel?" she asked blankly. "How do I feel now?"

Harry nodded, willing her to continue. She gazed at him solemnly, perched on his lap, her legs straddling his, and suddenly her mouth was on his and her hands were on his chest, pushing him onto her bed. Harry could feel her body against his and the urgency in her kiss and his arms came around her and he responded almost involuntarily, his mind screaming at him to stop and his traitorous body urging him on.

He knew this wasn't going to help, that losing herself in him wasn't the answer she was looking for but her tongue was doing such wonderful things in his mouth and her hands were everywhere and it felt so good that he didn't stop her. Something new erupted from somewhere deep inside and then it was no longer her need, but his. His hands snaked under her clothing and he rolled over so that he had her pinned beneath him. Harry was acutely aware of the way her fingers were trailing up and down his back and the way she was shifting underneath him. He felt all rational thought draining away and the only thing in his world was Ginny. He groaned and tore his lips away from hers to press them to her chin, her jaw, her neck, his body pressing against hers urgently, betraying his desire.

But when he felt tiny fingers on his belt, pulling at it, undoing it, it was as though Ron had slammed open the door like he did last summer and all the feelings vanished in a moment. Harry pulled away from Ginny and caught her hands with his own.

"Stop," he rasped, still feeling his body ache with desire as she laid there, hair strewn on the pillow, cheeks flushed and lips swollen and bruised. She was so beautiful and part of Harry cared little for the fact that this was not how he wanted to become her lover. But the larger part cared for her too much to let that happen. "Not like this. Not because you want to forget. Not because you'd rather give me your body than talk. Not when there's a chance we'll regret it."

"I could never regret it," Ginny said fiercely. "I will never regret a single moment that I am with you."

"I would," said Harry softly as he raised the hands he still held in his own to his lips and kissed them softly.

Ginny made a noise of protest.

"Oh I would never regret that it was you, but I would regret that I stole a moment when you were weak and vulnerable and willing to do anything. I would regret breaking your trust like that."

Ginny closed her eyes and Harry climbed off her, pulling her up to stand next to him in the middle of her bedroom. He held her carefully and kissed her forehead gently.

"I don't want to make you cry again," he whispered. He tucked her head under his chin and caressed her back gently as they stood in her bedroom the curtains drifting in the slight breeze that came in the window.

"I was so alone," she said eventually, "so lonely."

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered feeling like it had all been his fault.

"When I got on the Express I realised," Ginny said. "I realised I was all alone. For the first time I was away from _all_ my family. I might have pretended for years that nothing would make me happier but really, not having Ron on that train for the first time; it hit me so hard. I waved to Mum and Dad with this big cheesy smile plastered to my face but I just kept hoping they were too far away to see the tears. I was so mad; so mad at them. How could they do this to me? Didn't they know? Didn't they know what was going to happen? They must have known the Carrows were Death Eaters. They just sent me off to Hogwarts – all alone."

"Attendance was compulsory," Harry murmured into her hair. "You're Pure-Blood, they had no choice."

"Neville came along and found me standing at the window," she continued. "I was just watching the scenery go by in a blur and thinking how every clack of the train was taking me further away from them, and you. Neville dragged me into a compartment and shoved me into a seat next to Luna just before Malfoy came swaggering down the corridor declaring that everyone had to sit down. Talk about a power trip."

"I thought you'd be with Neville and Luna," said Harry. "I hoped you were with them." Ginny looked up at him.

"You were thinking of me?" she asked. Harry nodded.

"Every spare minute," he replied.

"We started planning then," Ginny continued, laying her head on Harry's chest. He pulled her closer. "But at night, when it was just me, alone in my bed, I was lonely. And during the day when I was trying to dodge the Carrows I was lonely.

"Hagrid and Professor McGonagall kept looking at me sadly, but they could never tell me anything. They didn't know where you were any more than I did. Everyone else was convinced I knew something. Goyle was so pleased when he finally got to torture me."

Harry winced.

"Oh there's no point prettying it up, Harry," said Ginny as she pulled away from him. "He thought he'd be able to torture out of me where you were, and earn points with Malfoy … or Snape or whoever, I don't know. That's what he kept asking me. 'Where's Potter? Famous Harry Potter; I bet he's told his little whore where he is.' Every day – for three weeks."

Ginny had backed away from Harry and was leaning against her bedroom door with her arms crossed over her chest, tears glittering in the corners of her eyes. Her voice was getting louder, harsher. Harry wanted to take her in his arms and kiss the pain away but he knew he had to hear it, he couldn't silence her. It was like a knife twisting in his gut but he owed it to her to listen.

"And after that detention finished Neville and Seamus started taking the fall for anything I said in the hallways or at meals and they made the sixth year boys do the same in class, I had to live with the fact that they did that for me," she shouted, the tears pouring down her cheeks. "They took that for me! I was running during the day and healing everybody else by night and all because they wanted to get to me, because I love you! And you weren't there! You weren't there …"

She finished on a sob and Harry could stand it no longer. In two strides he was gathering her in his arms, trying to soothe away the pain and the hurt. Ginny struggled, resisting his embrace, beating feebly at his chest and the arms encircling her.

"I was all alone," Ginny cried. "Nobody was there. You weren't there. I kept seeing you, in my dreams. You were dead, always dead. Every time I closed my eyes I saw you in a crumpled heap and you were dead."

She stopped struggling and wound her arms tightly around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder. Harry suddenly knew why she'd burst into tears that day on the Roobus and heard her protesting in the Room of Requirement during the Battle.

"_I can't go home! My whole family's here, I can't stand waiting there alone and not knowing-"_

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I wasn't there," Harry held Ginny close, stroking her hair and whispering to her. "I'm not going to leave you again. I promise. You won't be alone."

It was some time later that Ginny unwound herself from his neck and reached for a tissue.

"I'm sorry," she said as she blew her nose. "I just-"

"Its okay, Ginny," Harry replied. "I want to know. I need to know. You can always talk to me. You can tell me anything."

"I know I can," said Ginny shredding the tissue into tiny pieces. "It's just … yesterday brought it all back and I've been so happy the last few months, with you. I put it out of my mind. I had bad dreams all night and I kept looking over my shoulder every time I went to the bathroom. I just felt … paralysed, so I protected myself the way I was used to doing."

"That sounds perfectly reasonable to me," said Harry, levitating the shredded tissue into the wastepaper basket. He reached for her hand. "Thank you for letting me in." Ginny smiled at him and turned to look at herself in the little mirror on the wall and began fixing her hair.

"You look a fright, dear," said the mirror. Ginny scowled at it.

"I think you're beautiful," Harry said. Ginny arched an eyebrow at him as their eyes locked in the mirror.

"I rather think the tear streaked, puffy, red eyed look is stretching beautiful a bit far."

"You are always beautiful," said Harry seriously as he slid his arms around her waist. He bent to kiss her, trailing wet open mouthed kisses along her jaw and down her neck.

"Better not let her mother see that," said the mirror. Harry growled and pulled Ginny away from it and towards the bed. He wanted to kiss her and touch her, their earlier encounter still fresh in his mind.

"Harry," Ginny protested, "I'm hungry. I haven't eaten all day." Harry raised his head and gazed at her seriously. Her eyes were wide and dark and he was very aware of her curves under his hands. He let out a ragged breath and pressed a last kiss to her nose before letting her go and entwining his hand with hers.

"Ginny?" he said, stopping with his hand on the doorknob.

"Yes?"

"Next time you go for my belt," he said looking down at her seriously. "I'm going to let you undo it. I'm not going to be able to stop next time."

Harry hadn't seen her blush like that in a long time, but he didn't miss the calculating smile either.


	25. Chapter 25

**25. Approval**

"Got you an appointment at ten tomorrow!" Arthur called cheerily as Harry entered the kitchen for tea, Ginny on his heels. Harry grimaced, he still did not want to talk to Percy at all but he thanked Arthur anyway.

"Appointment for what?" asked Ginny quietly. Harry turned to her but she had made her presence known and he had no chance to answer her. Molly descended on her only daughter and Ginny bore her attentions with good grace, sitting at the table and allowing her mother to fuss over her. Harry, caught Molly beaming at him more than once during the meal and noticed that she piled his plate higher than usual. He took this as thanks for enticing Ginny out of her room.

Ginny was quieter than usual during the meal but it was as if George sensed her need to be distracted and he regaled the table with tales of the shop's reopening.

"I'm not sure, but I think that there are more single witches than ever before," he said in an undertone to Ginny at one point. "Plenty of beautiful girls wandered into the shop today and I have more than one date." He winked at her and Ginny wrinkled his nose at him before smiling slightly.

"You are going to break some poor girl's heart, George," said Ron with mock severity. "I'm not sure there's enough of you to go around if you spread yourself this thin."

"Thin? You call two dates spreading myself thin?" asked George. "Two is merely making the most of my time, three would be spreading myself thin."

"So what's four then?" asked Hermione, eyebrow raised.

"Dangerous," answered George before reaching for more mashed potato. Ginny laughed and Harry's heart felt lighter at her good humour.

After tea, when Harry had a chance to explain to Ginny who his appointment was with and why, she looked at him intently for a moment.

"I'm not sure you can convince him of anything," she said finally.

"Gee, that makes me feel loads better," said Harry rolling his eyes.

"But it means a lot that you'd try," Ginny added softly.

"I'd rather stay with you," whispered Harry wistfully, nuzzling her neck, but she shook her head.

"Mum needs to fuss over me tomorrow," she explained to his enquiring gaze. "She was frantic today. I could hear her on the other side of the door; I just couldn't bear to let her in."

They were sitting together in an oversized armchair by the fire in the living room. They had joined the rest of the family, speaking quietly so that the rest could not hear and no one bothered them as Harry wiped away the tear that ran slowly down her cheek. Molly and Arthur both looked concerned but did not interfere as Harry conjured a handkerchief and pulled her more securely onto his lap to hold her while she cried quietly.

The next morning, as he strode through The Ministry, trying to ignore the people staring at him, Harry wished he was anywhere else but on his way to see Percy. It had been difficult for Harry to leave Ginny that morning. She had looked pale and so small sitting alone in the large chair in the sitting room but she had insisted he go and even as he knocked on Percy's office door Harry worried about her. He pushed it out of his mind, reminding himself that if anyone could coddle someone out of a funk it was Molly Weasley.

He was startled from his reverie when the door suddenly jerked open and Percy poked his head out, looking first left then right down the corridor in which it was situated. Harry just watched him bemused, as Percy eyed a wizard with a mop and bucket who was slowly mopping the same patch of floor in a circular motion over and over again in front of a door that appeared to be a toilet. Percy reminded him of a spy on a particularly bad spoof comedy. The notion was only heightened when Percy beckoned him with a finger and hissed at him.

"Pssssssssssst, Harry!"

"What?" Harry hissed back in a stage whisper. "Who are we looking for?"

"Stella," answered Percy shortly. "Hurry up!" He reached out an arm, grasping Harry by the elbow and yanked him inside the darkened office before looking out the door once more. Harry poked his head out the door under Percy's arm.

"Who's Stella?" he managed to get out before Percy pushed his head back inside and shut the door firmly.

"She's stalking me," whispered Percy, opening the door a crack and peering out. Harry stifled a laugh with great difficulty and Percy closed the door with a sudden snap.

"She's coming, get down!" he said as he ducked down so that he was below the level of the window in his office door. Harry just stood there and Percy reached out and yanked him down by one sleeve. Percy cast a locking spell on the door just as the handle rattled and a shrill voice reverberated through the glass pane.

"Mr Weasley, are you in there?" it said. "I've got some paperwork for you to sign."

"She doesn't sound like a stalker," whispered Harry.

"Shhhhhhhhhh!" Percy made the sound almost silently and motioned at Harry frantically with one hand.

"Well, I'll just leave them on my desk then," Stella's voice said. "Right next door … I'm sure you know where it is." Harry heard her heels click clacking for a few steps before another door clicked shut quietly. Percy sighed and flicked his wand to unlock the door and turn the lamps back on.

"Wretched paperwork, always wanting it signed," he muttered as he strode to his desk which was, as Harry had anticipated, as neat as a pin with papers lined up in meticulous rows in line with the edge of the desk, a row of quills evenly spaced on the desk and four different coloured inkpots in a row next to a pile of thick and very boring looking reference books. The top one was titled _'Magical Regulations: The Ins and Outs of Drafting New Items for the Regulation of Cauldron Sizes'_.

"So, Stella … she stalks you to get you to … sign things?" asked Harry as he picked up a paperweight and turned it upside down. Percy plucked it from his grasp.

"Yes, she does," he said in a clipped tone as he put the paperweight back down and then straightened it about a quarter of an inch.

"Sounds more like a secretary," muttered Harry, picking up a beige quill and wondering where Percy got such a boring colour.

"The fact that she is my secretary is neither here nor there," said Percy. Harry snorted and tried to cover it up with a cough. Percy glared at him and snatched the quill back, placing it back in its neat place on his desk. Harry did not have a chance to say anything further because the door burst open and Percy paled, ducking under his desk. Harry whirled around to see Bill standing, bemused, in the doorway, holding an armful of scrolls.

"Stella's gone for tea, Perce," he called and Harry nearly burst out laughing as Percy, his hair sticking up uncharacteristically, poked his pale face above his desk. His eyes darted about madly.

"Are you sure?" he asked Bill desperately. Bill looked as if he was holding back laughter with great difficulty.

"Yeah, I'm sure," said Bill, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I watched her buying an Eccles cake and a pot of tea not three minutes ago." Percy stood up and attempted to look dignified, something which Harry thought he failed to do entirely.

"She's getting worse," Percy said in a low voice. Bill merely laughed.

"You're imagining it," he replied. "I brought those documents you wanted anyway. Kingsley gave me permission to look at practically anything – you were right."

"What was _Percy_ right about?" asked Harry, wincing as he realised how abrupt he sounded. Neither Percy nor Bill seemed to notice.

"I was afraid I was," muttered Percy as Bill handed him the scrolls. Percy began scanning the documents and muttering to himself.

"What was he right about?" Harry asked Bill again.

"The copy of your statement that went to the courts was incomplete," said Bill gravely. "It affected the outcome of some of the trials."

"Which trials?" demanded Harry.

"Lucius Malfoy's for a start," said Percy looking up from the parchment in his hand. "Things were a tad chaotic right after … well, at the time. We had an admin assistant in charge of the written statements."

"An admin assistant with no idea what he's doing by the look of things," said Bill. "The git left out an entire page!" Percy shuffled the parchment and uncharacteristically swore.

"Listen to this," he said. "Captured by Snatchers and carted away … after that Mrs Malfoy was sent to check on me." Harry stared at the parchment in Percy's hand.

"But what about the whole 'imprisoned in _Malfoy Manor_ where Lucius was hiding Voldemort' part?" he asked in shock. "No wonder he was able to use that testimony to get _himself_ off!" Percy nodded gravely.

"I'm afraid no one really noticed the discrepancy at the time," he said. "We were a bit busy and pre occupied."

"But didn't anyone search the Manor?" demanded Harry.

"I just spoke to Dad, he reckons an Auror or two went around and Malfoy was very co operative about things," shrugged Bill. "Kingsley's been tied up with ministerial stuff and I guess if they only had half a statement to go on …"

"Ollivander was imprisoned in that Manor for more than a year!" bellowed Harry. "How does it not get properly searched?" He had quite forgotten the original reason for his visit to Percy and was utterly furious. Things were starting to make sense however. How could Lucius Malfoy retain money and influence unless the full scope of his activities had been hidden?

"What sort of incompetent nitwit leaves out an entire page when doing a copying spell?" said Percy as he stared in wonder at the parchment in his hand. "This is what happens when you don't use a scroll." He shook his head at Harry.

"You're blaming _me_ for this now?" asked Harry, furious that Percy was apparently intent on blaming him for just about anything. "You know what? You can just piss off, Percy."

"Now, Harry-"

"Don't 'Harry' me!" said Harry through clenched teeth. He strode to the door and yanked it open. "Is anyone good enough for you Percy?"

Bill took a step towards him.

"Now, hang on-"

"No, I'm not going to hang on, Bill," answered Harry. "If all he wants to talk about is whether or not I use scrolled parchment then let Ginny at him!"

"What's Ginny got to do with any of this?" asked Percy. Harry shut the door deliberately and turned to face Percy.

"If she gets wind of the fact you think we are too serious or that she should, what is it, 'play the field' a bit more before settling down," said Harry, crossing his arms, "then you'd better get familiar with a counter hex for the Bat Bogey hex."

"Sixteen _is_ awfully young-"

"She's seventeen," interrupted Harry pointedly. "And you know it."

"Sixteen, seventeen, same thing," said Percy waving a hand dismissively.

"It is not the same thing!"

"The fact remains that you two are very young to be getting involved and doing things like buying pets together," said Percy officiously, the parchment forgotten on the desk. "What's next? Are you going to buy a house, 'shack up' together? It is inappropriate behaviour and you're too young!"

"I already _have_ a house," said Harry coolly. He glared at Percy. "And you know what? Ginny is welcome to 'shack up with me' anytime she likes."

"Why … well …" Percy seemed lost for words.

"Oh relax Percy," said Bill sounding quite amused. "They are both living at home with _Mum and Dad_. Ginny's virtue is perfectly safe."

"That's not the point," muttered Percy mutinously as he straightened the pile of parchment containing the trial proceedings information.

"Then what is the point?" questioned Bill. Percy seemed to struggle for a moment, opening his mouth and closing it again several times in quick succession.

"Ginevra is special," he finally managed.

"So is Harry," Bill reassured him and Harry felt himself turn a brilliant shade of red.

"But how does she know she's making the right choice?" Percy asked Bill quietly. His demeanour changed, he sounded softer somehow and as if he was pleading with his older brother to explain things to him.

"Trust her Percy," was all Bill said softly. Percy's eyes flicked from Bill to Harry who stared at him defiantly.

"But … what if it's the wrong choice?" Percy looked back at Bill.

"Trust her," Bill repeated. Percy sighed.

"But she's just a little girl," he whispered.

"She's not," said Harry. "She's not a little girl anymore. Voldemort changes things. She grew up a long time ago, Percy."

"I didn't pay enough attention to her in her first year," murmured Percy looking out of the window in his office. Harry noticed it was raining and wondered who was in charge of the weather outside Percy's window.

"None of us did," answered Harry.

"She hasn't been a little girl since then, Percy," said Bill. There was a long silence. Eventually Percy looked up at Harry.

"You saved her," he stated quietly. Harry nodded uncomfortably.

"Still think she could be making the wrong choice, Percy?" asked Bill.

"You were only twelve," was all Percy said as he looked at Harry. "You could have died." Harry shifted uneasily.

"She would have," Harry whispered. His heart clenched as he thought about how his life would be different if she had.

"Ginny is special," said Percy helplessly.

"I know," Harry answered. "I know she's special."

"She's been hurt enough."

"You think I would hurt her?" asked Harry. "The last thing I ever want to do is hurt Ginny. She's my world."

"Ginny trusts him," interjected Bill. "She knows what she wants and she's an adult – you have to let her make her own decisions and take her own risks."

"When did she grow up?" whispered Percy brokenly as he slumped into the chair behind his desk. "I missed it, didn't I? I missed so much."

"Don't miss anything else, Perce," said Bill softly, sitting in the chair opposite. "If there's one thing we need to take away from this war it's that there's no time to waste. We can't afford to miss things." Percy stared at the paperweight on his desk for a moment before picking it up and turning it over in his hands. He looked up at Harry who was standing, staring at him.

"You don't want to miss anything do you?" Percy asked Harry. "You don't want to waste any more time." Harry shook his head.

"I know we're young," he said. "I do know that, but that doesn't mean we don't know what we want. It doesn't mean we're making the wrong choice. We've been through a lot and no one else makes me feel the way she does. I'm not stupid; I know she's loved me for years. I'm not going to hold anything back from her now, not now that I understand how she feels."

"You really are in love with her," said Percy. Harry just nodded. "Does not holding anything back include … well …"

"Oh Merlin, whatever you do, don't let Ginny hear you ask that!" exclaimed Bill. Harry couldn't help it, he laughed.

"Well, it's a matter of propriety," protested Percy.

"It's also none of your business," said Harry crossing his arms over his chest. "But for the record, no, and Merlin help me that is the last time I am answering that question! Besides, if she has her way the next time you ask it you won't like the answer." Percy paled but Bill laughed and Harry blushed.

"You know, you're going to have to conquer that embarrassment," said Bill. He rose and clapped Harry on the shoulder as he made his way to the door. "You need to be able to look us in the eye, or we'll know." Harry shook his head as Bill opened the door to the hallway.

"If putting up with you lot doesn't prove I'll do anything for Ginny, what will?" muttered Harry mutinously. Bill chuckled as he stepped into the hallway.

"I'll see you at home, Percy," he said. "On Saturday, for your birthday, and we all understand one another now, don't we?"

"I'll try to be a little more … understanding of your relationship with Ginevra," said Percy, addressing Harry.

"Do more than try, Perce," Bill warned him and Percy nodded stiffly.

"I'd better get this information sorted out," Percy said as he gathered up the scrolls Bill had brought. "I don't know what we can do about it now, but this sort of error cannot be allowed to go unchecked." He bent his head to his desk and Harry took that as his dismissal and turned to follow Bill but Percy stopped him.

"Harry, I - well, here, I'd like you to have this," Percy said and he turned to one of the bookshelves lining his office and selected a book which he thrust at Harry who took it tentatively. He turned it over to read the title inscribed on the front. _'Your Year as Head Boy and How to make the Most of It' by Herbert Hornblest_.

"Er, thanks, Percy," Harry managed to say, attempting to look grateful. He assumed he succeeded as Percy seemed to sense nothing amiss.

"It was very useful to me, I assure you," he said stiffly to Harry.

"Thank you," Harry said, and he meant it. No matter how difficult Percy was to get along with, giving him this book meant he was making an effort. The fact that Harry had no intention of opening the book was neither here nor there.

****************

Harry spent the rest of the week helping Ron and George in the shop while Ginny helped her mother with various spring cleaning tasks at home. Part of him liked the routine that getting up in the morning and going to work afforded and it was a bit of a novelty to spend the day _looking forward_ to being with Ginny but he had become accustomed to spending his days with her and he missed her terribly at first. Ginny had laughed at him and launched into a long winded recount of how her father used to greet her mother after a day at work. By paying particularly close attention to the freckles on her shoulder, Harry had been able to divert her attentions and Ginny had conceded that in fact being away from each other was a torture they should not soon replicate.

Although he spent his days waiting to see her again, Harry spent every evening with Ginny, taking long walks around the garden or curling up together in the oversized armchair by the fire. Harry listened to Ginny talk about going back to school. He had his own fears that he confided in her.

"Sometimes I think I'm a bit old to be going back to Hogwarts," he said one evening, as they sat in front of a low fire that took the chill off the brisk evening air. "I should be out there, helping Kingsley. Percy said Voldemort's followers are still out there."

"Not Death Eaters," asked Ginny in alarm. Harry felt her stiffen.

"No, they have all the known Death Eaters," said Harry, stroking her arm softly in an effort to soothe her. "Just people who are mostly pretty ordinary except they believe in the Mudblood rubbish and want to keep up the fight." He ran his hand up her arm and felt her body mould back into his.

"I suppose there will always be Dark Wizards, won't there," said Ginny idly, trailing a finger up his thigh. Harry tried to hold onto the thread of the conversation.

"Yeah, I suppose," he breathed as he lowered his mouth to kiss her neck.

"And someone has to catch them," Ginny added, beginning to draw little circles on his leg.

"They do," Harry agreed, his mouth hovering over her ear.

"Someone like you," Ginny said slowly as she trailed her fingers higher on his leg.

"Absolutely," said Harry as he fastened his lips on hers. His fingers tangled in her hair and trailed down her back. Sitting as they were in the chair, facing one another with Ginny's leg thrown over his, Harry found the route up Ginny's thigh and around the delectable curve of her derriere quite easily. With his hand there he found he could pull Ginny closer to him as he kissed her. Sometimes it felt like he couldn't get close enough to her, like he just wanted to crawl inside her body and only then would he be close enough to her.

With Ginny's hands exploring his chest and back under his shirt and his hands pulling her closer, caressing her bum and tangling in her hair to gently pull her head back and expose her neck for him to feast on, Harry had quite forgotten where they were until Ron interrupted them.

"If this is what you get up to when I distract Hermione, maybe you _should_ be packing for Hogwarts," said Ron, standing in the doorway, a smirk on his lips as he watched Harry, blushing fit to rival any Weasley, rebutton his shirt.

"We need to pack eventually I guess," said Ginny as she pretended to smooth Harry's hair. Harry could feel her fingers gently massaging his scalp and knew her intent was not to groom him. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. "After we go shopping that is. I don't know what you did to your cauldron and your scales are completely missing."

"You really are packing his trunk for him," marvelled Ron as he sat down on the couch opposite. Ginny scowled at him but Harry was secretly glad they had been interrupted. He didn't know why but he didn't want to talk about his future and with Ron there they would not soon return to that conversation. He knew it was coming however.

Was his career going to be an Auror like he had planned? He thought so, but he had no idea how Ginny would feel about it and he wanted too badly to hold onto the carefree remnants of summer to find out. As Ron and Ginny began a lively argument about the prospects of the Canons in the new Quidditch Season, Harry's mind turned over and over, wondering whether or not he should become a full Auror or not.

Percy brought both welcome and unwelcome news to his birthday party. Harry had collected Teddy that afternoon, to finish his aborted visit and Molly had made a feast. The family, including Harry, Hermione and her parents and Penelope ate outside in the garden. After the main course had been devoured Percy rose and made a stiff and formal sounding announcement.

"I'd like to thank you all very deeply for being here today," he said. "It really means a lot to me."

"Means a whole bunch to us too!" shouted George from the other end of the table.

"Thank you, George," continued Percy as if the interruption was welcome. "I just wanted to say that … well … I'm sorry I haven't kept in touch and er, I know I've missed a lot but …"

"Yeah, you're sorry and Harry was right and Ginny's grown up, right?" called George. Bill hid his smile behind his serviette, Charlie grinned at his fork and Molly hissed at George to be quiet out of the corner of her mouth.

"I have been … wrong about a number of things," Percy stumbled out, glaring at George before his eyes flickered to where Ginny was sitting, her head on Harry's shoulder while he traced his fingers up and down her arm. "I just wanted to apologise for my, er, mistakes and I look forward to moving on from here as it were."

"That sounds good," said Ginny softly, straightening up a little. "I think moving on is a good thing to do right now."

"Hear, hear!" called Ron. "It's a good time to move on to cake!" Harry saw his eyes flicker to George and had a sudden suspicion that Ron was anticipating more than cake.

"Oh, of course," muttered Molly as she leapt to her feet. "I'll just go and get it." Penelope jumped up to help and Ron sat back in his chair smiling smugly. Percy did not seem to notice but George was looking at Ron strangely. Harry thought he looked a little sad.

"What are you up to?" muttered Ginny, poking Ron in the arm.

"Nothing, nothing at all, are we George?" replied Ron with a grin. George shook his head and looked away, staring out over the darkening garden.

Molly soon bustled out with a large vanilla cake. Unlike the cakes she had made for Harry this one wasn't shaped as anything interesting. It was a rather yellowish looking rectangle with a row of even white candles. Harry thought it suited Percy perfectly. The family began singing Happy Birthday, everyone singing at a different speed and pitch. Percy stood stoically during the entire performance although he seemed to be twitching just a little. Harry and Ron finished a entire minute after everyone else in the droning monotone they had affected throughout the whole thing and George sat up a little straighter, he glanced at Ron who looked back at him. Both of them wore silly grins.

Percy leaned over to blow out the candles but they wouldn't go out. Percy frowned at them and tried again. Ginny giggled. Percy, getting out his wand, fixed George with a glare.

"_Finite Incantatum_," he commanded, rather officiously waving his wand over the candles before trying to blow them out again.

Nothing happened.

"I say, that's a good bit of magic George," said Arthur wonderingly but George looked at the candles suspiciously.

"It wasn't me," he frowned. "We were planning to turn his hair into fireworks when he blew them out but he probably just nixed that spell now. Ron? What did you do?"

"Nothing!" protested Ron. "Why are you blaming me? Maybe _you_ did the spell wrong!" George sighed heavily and closed his eyes.

"Probably," he said softly. Suddenly Hermione snorted. All eyes turned to her as she lost her battle with laughter.

"Hermione?" asked Ron wonderingly. "Was this you?" Hermione just smiled and shook her head.

"Well come on then Percy," interjected Mr Granger suddenly. "Blow them out I'm sure it won't take long just give it a good couple of blows."

Percy tried to blow the candles out ineffectually. He was going red in the face and sweating but the candles stubbornly stayed lit.

"Do you think the candles are faulty, Molly?" asked Arthur as he tried to blow them out, Percy was looking a little green from hyperventilating.

"Well, how on earth do you make candles faulty?" Molly scoffed incredulously. "That is definitely some odd magic. Now which one of you charmed them after Hermione's father brought them back?" She eyed her children in turn.

"Dad bought them?" asked Hermione, her eyes lighting up. Harry looked at Mr Granger, noting for the first time that the older man had a suspicious twinkle in his eyes. Mr Granger winked at him and Hermione doubled over with giggles and Harry suddenly knew what was going on. Ginny narrowed her eyes as Harry dissolved into a fit of coughing. He and Hermione looked at each other and burst into fresh peals of laughter.

One by one the wizards around the table tried to magically put out the candles. Percy even managed to land his wand in the cake where it wobbled precariously as Charlie inadvertently charmed the knife to dance across the table. Suddenly Ginny gasped. She rounded on Harry and Hermione who were now holding each other up and gasping weakly as Charlie danced out of the way of the knife, the candles still burning merrily on the cake.

"Alright," she said. "How do Muggles make candles that don't blow out?"

"Muggles?" echoed George, looking up from where he was trying to extract Percy's wand from the cake.

"Muggles?" asked Arthur excitedly. He turned to Mr Granger. "You bought these in a Muggle shop?" Hermione's father nodded, his eyes brimming with mirth.

"Muggle candles? They're Muggle candles?" asked Ron rather stupidly.

"Amazing," said Arthur incredulously as he began circling the cake and examining the candles as if he were an archaeologist inspecting a newly discovered ancient ruin. "This is brilliant! How do you turn them off?" Mr Granger reached over and pinched the tip of the candle between his fingers. The flame vanished, leaving a trail of smoke drifting up from the cake and several wizards staring at it in wonder. Harry and Hermione burst into a fresh round of laughter and Ginny began to chuckle.

Harry tried to control his laughter and looked up at Percy who was standing behind his cake, his icing covered wand now in his hand, his face illuminated by the remaining candles. The knife danced a tango in front of him, occasionally flicking into the cake and sending up little spatters of icing onto his previously impeccable pin striped robes. Arthur joined in the laughter and Bill and Charlie were grinning gleefully. Molly had pursed her lips but Harry thought it looked just like she was trying to prevent the laughter escaping.

"That's brilliant!" Ron breathed. "That is totally cool, isn't it George?" George nodded morosely and slipped out of his chair.

"No cake for me," he said quietly and he padded softly across the garden. Ron didn't notice as he began gleefully helping Mr Granger put the candles out and talking animatedly to him the whole time. Ginny squeezed Harry's hand before letting go and slipping off into the darkness after George.

"Well, sir," said Percy as the knife finally lay down, shuddering a little as if it were panting, exhausted, "that was a very good joke indeed. I say, well done." Harry and Hermione finally got themselves under control and with a flick of Molly's wand the exhausted knife began to cut the cake.

It took quite some time for everyone to get served because the knife, possibly protesting the abuse it had received, took it's time slicing the cake. Ginny wasn't back yet from talking to George and Fleur soon handed Harry a fussy Teddy.

"Oh 'e ees too cute," sighed Fleur wistfully as she watched Harry situate Teddy comfortably in his arms and begin to rock him.

"Which one," asked Bill cheekily. "Harry or the baby?"

"Zey are both zee cutest," she replied. "Look at 'ow 'Arry looks wiz zat leetle babe. Oh and zat little nose." Teddy responded by elongating his nose sleepily until it stuck out rather like Snape's had before he sighed, snuggling into Harry's chest, the nose going back to normal.

It was after he had taken Teddy inside and put him in the cradle that Harry found an opportunity to pull Percy aside. He motioned to Ron with his head and Ron must have sensed Harry's urgency and joined them.

"What's going on with this trial stuff?" Harry asked in an undertone. "Are they going to do Malfoy's again with the full statement this time? Have they searched the Manor yet?" George had materialised from the shadows at Ron's elbow. Harry glanced over to see Ginny talking to Fleur. He rather thought they might have been talking about him if the way they both looked up at him and giggled was any indication. He felt his face heat up. He forced his mind back to Percy.

"Legally, it cannot be changed," Percy was saying, shaking his head. "He's being very altruistic into the bargain."

"Smaller words, Perce, smaller words," interjected George. Percy sighed heavily.

"He's giving a lot of money to charities," he said, glancing at George. "In particular the fund being set up to help orphans and other … victims of the war begin or resume Hogwarts."

"Is that how he got onto the Board again?" asked Harry bitterly. "Throwing around his money, making himself look good; I bet he doesn't care one thing about war orphans."

"Yes, he definitely bought his way back onto the Board," agreed Percy. "And his wealth has nothing to do with the war, he had it before. There's not a lot the Ministry can do."

"Surely someone can search the Manor," spat Harry in exasperation. "There were people held prisoner there!"

"Kingsley's been trying to set up the paperwork but it's a mountain of red tape," said Percy. "Even with additional statements, Malfoy's solicitors are turning the whole thing into a screaming mess!" Harry tried very hard not to yell at Percy; for once it wasn't his fault.

"Say Percy," began Ron, "are there many kids who didn't get to start Hogwarts last year, being Muggleborn and all?"

"I don't know, Ron," Percy shrugged. "I haven't had a lot to do with that area but I imagine there are also a lot of students who missed a year like yourselves, on the run or in hiding." Harry was suddenly reminded of the Dursleys. They'd been in hiding, he should go and see them maybe. Dudley had wanted to see him but he felt no such obligation to his Aunt and Uncle. There was only a week before school went back, he really should make the time.

He was jolted from his thoughts about visiting Dudley before he went back to school by Bill's voice. Harry was startled, he hadn't noticed him join them or Charlie sit next to him.

"Gringotts has been trying to sort out money that was abandoned by Muggleborns during the war," he said. "Well I wouldn't say abandoned so much as forcibly given up. But yeah, there are a lot of starting students this year, they keep traipsing into the bank, changing Muggle money or trying to re establish a connection with the bank."

"There does seem an awful lot of titchy midget types this year," added Ron. "They come in the shop with their big wide eyes as if they haven't seen magic for a year!"

"Well, probably some of them haven't, Ron," added Charlie. "Big job for the Head Girl and Boy this year." He elbowed Harry in the ribs and Harry just shoved him back.

"Some people are still being educated at home but I heard that now the war is over that some students who weren't sent in the last two to three years may be sent to Hogwarts now," added Percy, ignoring the horseplay.

"What's the big deal about the last couple of years?" asked Ron.

"Harry was a nutter," said George as he plucked grapes from the bunch in his hand and threw them in the air trying to catch them in his mouth. "Then he was right, then he was on the run and the bad guys were in-" George began choking on a grape.

"That's a brilliant assessment," said Harry dryly as Ron pounded George on the back. "It makes me sound so stable and reliable."

"We don't love you for your stability, mate," said Charlie, ruffling his hair.

"Geroffame," Harry growled, batting Charlie's hand away.

"He's such an easy target," said Charlie, laughing. Harry just scowled at him and tried to flatten his hair.

"When are you going home again?" he asked pointedly. Bill roared with laughter.

"It's my job to tease you," answered Charlie with a grin. "It's what older brothers do."

"I am starting to see the value in being an only child," muttered Harry.

"Oh Harry, you don't mean that," said Hermione from his elbow, shaking her head solemnly. Harry smiled and shook his head; he didn't mean it in the slightest. He liked nothing better than being part of a large loving family.

"No, Harry _likes_ everybody's nose in his business," said George, reaching for another piece of cake.

"Yes, that's been a highlight," said Harry dryly.

"Who's in Harry's business?" asked Ginny sharply. Harry whirled around, startled, he hadn't known she was approaching.

"Only you, little sister," answered George. He stood up and grabbed Ginny, dancing her around the lawn in a waltz as a new song came over the WWN. "The rest of us just stay right out of it."

"Really?" asked Ginny sceptically.

"Merlin's honour," replied George solemnly. "So, could you spill a few of his secrets? We need something on him." Ginny laughed as George continued to waltz her speedily around the lawn to the fast number currently playing from the wireless.

*****************

The next week was very busy. After Teddy went back to Andromeda on Monday, Harry found himself caught up in the preparations for returning to Hogwarts. He and Ginny had not returned to the conversation that was sure to lead to discussion on his career but by the end of the week Harry was feeling easier about his decision to return to Hogwarts. He wasn't sure everyone would have made the same choice in his position and he was a little nervous. He knew he could not remain as shielded at Hogwarts as he had once done although the temptation was there to try and use it a shield. Harry was also unsure if he would be able to live within the confines of the school now. He was older, he had spent the last year most definitely not in school and the adjustment was probably going to be hard. He was torn between wanting to start his life as an adult and being with Ginny.

It was Ron who helped him settle his feelings about going back to Hogwarts. Late one evening Ron walked in on Harry giving Ginny a goodnight kiss in their room and had made disgusting gagging noises until Ginny left the room after throwing a pillow at his head.

"You and my sister are about the soppiest couple I have ever met," Ron started as he flopped onto his bed. "Anyone would think you were about to be separated for a year the way you two carry on every night."

"I don't think we could be separated for a year," said Harry as he lay on his own bed, staring at the ceiling. "Sometimes I wonder if the only reason I'm going back to Hogwarts is to avoid that, because I don't want to face it."

"Yeah it's not anything to look forward to," sighed Ron heavily. Harry looked over at his best mate who looked rather melancholy.

"Sorry mate," he said quietly. "I sort of forgot …"

"S'okay," Ron made a shrugging motion. "If me and Hermione'd just _been_ separated for a year I might think differently about it."

"Do you think it's going to be hard?" asked Harry, turning on his side and propping his head up on his arm.

"Yeah," answered Ron. "It's going to be awful. I'm going to miss her so much."

"Do you wish you were coming back?"

"Some days I do," sighed Ron. "But it wouldn't be the right decision for me."

"Do you think it's the right decision for me?" asked Harry, flopping onto his back once more. "What if I'm only going back so I don't have to be separated from Ginny?"

"Maybe that's a good enough reason for you," said Ron simply as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Hermione's not Ginny, she doesn't need me the same. I reckon Ginny needs you."

"She's strong," said Harry.

"I know," agreed Ron. "But even strong people need other people. It's not just Ginny either. You need her."

"What makes you say that?"

"You're happiest with her," Ron said as he pulled his shoes off and peeled down his socks. He paused and looked up at Harry seriously. "When you got together with Ginny you looked … different. Like nothing could bother you. I didn't realise it was her that made you look that way until she wasn't there anymore." Ron balled his socks up and threw them into a corner that may or may not have contained other dirty items of clothing.

"And that's a good enough reason?" clarified Harry.

"It is," insisted Ron, his voice muffled as he pulled a pyjama top over his head. "She needs you and you will worry about her if you are not with her. I didn't imagine how much you missed her last year. I'm not that stupid." Ron struggled with the sleeves of the top.

"But what about all the stuff I could be doing-"

"Is anything more important than Ginny?" asked Ron. Harry sat up and stared at Ron.

"Nothing," he said seriously. "Nothing is more important than Ginny."

"And anything that's important enough will still be there when you finish," Ron said urgently. "George needs me more than Hermione right now, but no one else needs you as much as Ginny does. They might try and say they do, but that's where you belong; with her. I know I said you were soppy … but I wouldn't want you to be anything else." Ron shrugged.

"We're going to miss you," Harry said.

"Oh you won't have time to," scoffed Ron as he scooted underneath the coverlet. "You'll spend all your time looking for hidden spots to snog in. Oh there's this one spot, behind the statue of the troll on the fifth floor, it's got a camouflaged door but if you wave your hand over the wall three times you can see it. There's a little room in there, perfect for snogging, or a bit more, if you know what I mean."

"I can't believe you just told me to … do a bit more with your sister!" exclaimed Harry. Ron looked sheepish.

"George is running a book," he confessed. "I've got two Galleons on before Halloween."

"I … well oh that's just …" Harry stopped, speechless. "I'm going to the loo." He turned to leave.

"Honestly Harry," said Ron. "You could do anything with your life right now but if making yourself happy isn't a good enough reason to go back to school, I don't know what is." Harry smiled slightly.

"Making Ginny happy."

***********************

The Burrow became a hive of activity as Molly mended socks and hemmed robes. Harry put off going to see Dudley until it was too late to do anything about it. He promised himself he'd send him a Christmas card. While her parents, assisted by Molly, arranged most of Hermione's new school things, Hermione was frantically collecting together all her books. One day at breakfast she startled Harry and Ron by dashing into the kitchen and slamming her tiny beaded bag on the table.

"How could I be so stupid?" she exclaimed, frantically scrabbling at the clasp on the bag. "I've been looking for half my books for three days. I would like to know how I forgot they were in here?" She yanked the bag open and thrust her arm inside. Soon she had extracted books, clothing and other small items, heaping them carelessly on the table in a haphazard pile. As Hermione pulled a large picture frame from the bag, Ron dived to catch a small book that had been knocked from the pile on the table.

"I guess you haven't given your books much thought lately," said Ron, eyeing the old and somewhat tattered copy of _The Tales of Beadle the Bard _he held in his hands.

"Well you've kept me rather otherwise engaged Ron," said Hermione absently as she waved her wand at what appeared to be an empty picture frame. Harry realised it was the frame from Grimmauld Place that hung in the bedroom he and Ron had shared. Hermione had removed the blindfold spell but Phineas Nigellus was nowhere to be seen. Ron put the book back on the table and stood up to slide his arms around Hermione's waist.

"Well, what say we get engaged in something else right now and forget these musty old books," he said, bending to nuzzle her neck.

"Ugh, not in front of me," George said as he came into the kitchen and slid into a chair at the table.

"Ron," Hermione protested weakly, "I really need to sort out my things for Hogwarts."

"There's loads of time," Ron said, running a hand up her back. "Several days in fact; Harry hasn't even started packing yet." Hermione looked disapprovingly at Harry who attempted to avoid her gaze.

"Could it be that young Harry here has been engaged in other activities also?" George asked. Harry took a piece of toast and headed for the door to the hallway before he answered.

"It could be that Ginny has started to pack Harry's trunk for him so that he has time for other activities," he called as he darted out the door and took the steps two at a time up to Ginny's bedroom. He and Ginny were going to the Ministry for Ginny's Apparition test after which they were heading on to Diagon Alley to do some shopping for Hogwarts and Harry was looking forward to the two of them having a day out. Ginny had been quieter than usual lately but was slowly returning to her normal disposition. Harry hoped a day out would brighten her even more.

Harry absently pushed open the door to her room without knocking and was startled to see Ginny standing in the middle of her room, surveying her bed, which was covered in clothes, something she was wearing very little of.

"Oh, sorry," murmured Harry as his eyes travelled up her body, taking in all her curves.

"You don't look very sorry," said Ginny, turning to him, her hands on her hips but she was smiling. Harry had the grace to blush. He took a step backwards.

"I'll just, er, wait outside," his eyes lingered on her and she shrugged as she turned back to stare at her bed.

"You can wait in here," she said as she bent over to rearrange the clothes. "I daresay the scenery is better in here than on the landing." Harry could only agree with that assessment as he watched her choosing her clothes for the day. He marvelled at the care that went into the decision. At least ten items of clothing were strewn across her bed, several still on hangers. Three pairs of shoes were lined up in front of her and as he watched she held up and discarded several items, comparing them with and matching them to other items.

Ginny peered out the window and then looked back at the bed. This action seemed to help her decide something because she sent four of the items back to her wardrobe with a flick of her wand. Then she held up one of the pairs of shoes to a pair of trousers before shaking her head and sending both items back to the wardrobe. She stood back, head tilted to the side, hands on hips, her eyes flickering over the remaining clothes on her bed.

Ginny picked up a green blouse and a brown skirt. She held it up to herself, eyeing the combination before discarding the green blouse and reaching for a white cardigan. Ginny peered out of the window once more before selecting a pair of sandals. Harry watched her body move as she made her final selections; it was doing crazy things to his insides.

"You know," said Harry conversationally, trying to keep his voice even, "I just pull out a pair of jeans, check to see if the t shirt on top of the pile is clean and grab my trainers."

"Yes, well, you're a boy," muttered Ginny, searching a small box on her dressing table.

"You are definitely not a boy," Harry said, crossing the room and sliding his arms around her waist, unable to stop himself any longer. Her skin was soft and warm under his fingers as he ran his hands across her exposed stomach. He bent his head to drop a kiss on her shoulder before Ginny turned in his grasp.

"I bet you're glad about that then?" she asked with a grin. Harry nodded, his fingers ghosting up her back.

"So very glad," was all he managed to say before he gave in to his impulse to kiss her. Ginny responded eagerly and Harry dragged Ginny down onto her bed with him. He ignored her protests that he was sitting on her clothes and pulled her into his lap. He trailed kisses down her neck and tangled his fingers in her hair. Ginny's protests about crumpling her clothes died on her lips just before Harry covered them with his own.

The sensation of Ginny's skin under his fingertips was intoxicating. Never before had he been able to roam over so much of her exposed flesh unencumbered. Her familiar curves were more enticing, unconcealed by clothing and it was if his mind stopped and his hands took over, sliding under the remaining thin fabric, his fingers trying to rid her body of the flimsy garments she still wore. Ginny gasped and murmured against his lips.

"Harry, stop," she moaned softly. Harry pulled back a little and looked at her questioningly.

"What's wrong?" he asked her quietly. Ginny bit her lip and dropped her hands from around his neck, smoothing his shirt across the shoulders and pulling his hands into hers. She looked down at their clasped hands.

"I want to wait," she whispered so softly Harry could barely hear her. "I-I'm not ready for this. I've been talking to Mum a bit about it … you know, when to … and you were right, I was just trying to escape my thoughts. I'm only seventeen and it's a big step. I–I can't. I just … I'm sorry."

Harry squeezed her hands because she still wasn't looking at him. Ginny raised her head and Harry pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"No need to be sorry," he said. Harry stood up, pulling Ginny with him. "I'll wait downstairs." Harry slipped out the door, closing it behind him. He let out a sigh and leaned his head against the smooth wood. Although he had no hesitation taking Ginny's lead, he had to admit that he wouldn't have been sorry if they'd taken the next step right then. Slowly, he made his way down the stairs and back to the kitchen. Molly was busy with some pots and pans; Ron and Hermione were gone. George looked at him as he slid back into his seat and moodily buttered a piece of toast.

"What's up with you?" George asked.

"Nothing," said Harry, trying to act nonchalant.

"Rubbish," scoffed George. "You're all grumpy and you look like you've just missed out on a lottery." Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he chewed his toast.

"I'm fine," he insisted. Molly turned from her place near the sink, abandoning the pan she was scrubbing.

"You do look a bit flushed dear, are you sure you're alright?" she asked, looking at him with concern. Harry avoided her gaze by scooping more scrambled eggs onto his plate. He wasn't hungry but he was desperate for something to occupy himself.

"I'm fine, really," he tried to assure Molly, who eyed him carefully.

"Very well," she said eventually, peering out the window. "Where is Arthur with those eggs? I'll need them if I'm to do any baking today." She wiped her hands on her apron and untied it, hanging it on a hook near the back door.

"I know!" cried George suddenly. "You look like you've been turned down! I've seen that look before." He nodded sagely. Harry flushed a brilliant shade of red. Molly turned to look at him, her hand on the doorknob. Harry became intensely fixated on the tabletop. Molly didn't say anything but slipped quietly out the door.

"George!" hissed Harry. "Do you mind?" George just grinned at him.

"She won't hold out forever," was all he said. "Patience is a virtue in matters of this, er … delicate nature."

"Shut up," Harry whispered frantically, certain Molly would be back at any moment to tear him limb from limb for even _thinking_ of her daughter in that way.

"Why Harry, I am just trying to give you the benefit of my vast experience," George said loftily. "Keeping it to myself would be doing a great disservice to you."

"Oh really?" asked Harry sceptically. "Vast experience? When exactly do you have your two Galleons on? Just do me a favour, stay out of my sex life!" At that moment Arthur, who was carrying a basket of eggs, opened the door and strode into the kitchen, his wife on his heels.

"That's very good advice for all of us," was all Arthur said as he put the eggs on one of the sideboards and sat down at the table. Harry, completely mortified, and turning a fetching shade of red, if the warmth flooding his face was anything to go by, murmured something entirely unintelligible and bolted from the kitchen. He couldn't be sure but he could almost swear he heard laughter floating up the stairs after him.

Harry wasn't watching where he was going and bumped into Ginny on the second landing.

"Where are you going?" she asked him. "I thought you were going to wait downstairs?"

"Oh, well, your father walked into the kitchen while I was telling George to keep his nose out of our sex life," whispered Harry. Ginny blanched.

"Oh, that would have been a bit embarrassing," she muttered.

"A bit?" he asked incredulously. "Try a lot! I know me and Dad had a conversation about … things, but, well, I still don't want to be put on the spot like that. Did you know George is running a book on … well, you know … when?" Ginny looked at him as she reached for his hand.

"I'm sorry," she said. Harry looked at her in confusion.

"What for?"

"Well, that this whole … situation has become a matter for speculation," she apologised. "It's not something that should be up for discussion with anyone else at all." Harry shrugged.

"Not much we can do about it now," he said. "Let's go into Diagon Alley. I'll buy you an ice cream." He tugged on her hand as he headed back down the stairs. Ginny was looking thoughtfully at him and reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

"You are awfully tolerant of my family," she said.

"They're the only one I've got," said Harry simply. "Come on."

********************

Harry had been in Diagon Alley every day that week but he usually Apparated directly to the shop and stayed there. It had been reported that Harry Potter was working at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, so finding him wasn't hard but so far people had been respectful and although they'd come to stare, Number Ninety Two Diagon Alley was almost a haven. Possibly it was the influence of the makeshift shrine at the end of the counter that made people stop and think. The picture of the twins at Bill's wedding stood next to the chipped plaster statue of Fred from the Quidditch game they had played at Hogwarts in the week after the war and George had draped Fred's Gryffindor scarf over them both. In any case, within Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes Harry Potter was stared at reverentially but nothing more.

Harry found that actually walking around Diagon Alley was a vastly different experience. Florean Fortescue insisted on talking to him for several long minutes and by the time he left the ice cream parlour there was a crowd outside that took half an hour to get through. Ginny's hand never left his own but his remaining hand was caught up in handshakes and he was kept busy acknowledging all those who fervently offered their thanks to him. He had just reached the opposite footpath and, undecided whether to buy owl treats or robes first, he leant down to consult with Ginny. Harry brushed the hair out of her face and as his fingers caressed her cheek he realised she was trembling.

"What's wrong?" he whispered to her, squeezing her hand. Ginny shook her head wordlessly and Harry pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Too many people huh? Let's go find somewhere … quieter."

"No, I don't care how many people," whispered Ginny furiously. "I just wish they'd leave you alone." It was then that Harry realised she was not trembling with fear, but with anger.

Putting his head down and pulling Ginny close Harry headed for Madam Malkin's but he had only taken a couple of steps when he was blinded by a camera flash and halted by a pair of bright red high heels. His heart sank and he groaned.

"How lovely to see you, Harry," Rita Skeeter purred seductively, her jewelled glasses glinted as she tilted her head to one side in an obvious attempt to be coy. It looked ridiculous on a woman of her age and Harry fought the urge to laugh.

"I'm afraid I haven't any time right now," Harry muttered. "Now, if you'll excuse me." He made to push his way past the reporter but she held her ground infuriatingly.

"Still with Miss Weasley I see?" said Rita Skeeter, a smirk on her lips. "Are you getting sufficient … recompense for your attentions?" Harry glowered at her as he caught sight of her Quick Quotes Quill hovering slightly behind her left ear and the camera flashed again.

"No comment," he said through gritted teeth.

"How is Miss Granger taking all of this?" pressed Rita. "I mean you practically left her at the altar for this …" She looked at Ginny disdainfully and Harry felt the beginnings of a headache pounding at the base of his skull and moving up his head to throb behind his ears. He wasn't prepared for this, had not expected it and had not a clue what to say.

"Leave him alone," he suddenly heard Ginny grind out from between clenched teeth. He watched as Ginny drew herself up to her full height and advanced on the older woman. "Just. Leave. Him. Alone."

Rita Skeeter looked for a moment at Ginny before she flicked her wand at her floating Quick Quotes Quill, summoning it back to her bag. She jerked a thumb at her photographer and gave Ginny one last final glance before she stalked off down Diagon Alley, her heels clicking on the cobbled pavement.

Ginny's words seemed to have an effect on the entire crowd and it was as if they took her words to heart and parted slightly to let him and Ginny squeeze through and finish the rest of their shopping. The only problem they encountered the rest of that day were a few giggling girls who seemed to be following them. Ginny fixed them with an icy stare and once they left Quality Quidditch Supplies Harry didn't see them again.

Harry still felt like he was being watched but every time he looked up at anyone they looked away. Ginny, however was looking straight ahead and seemed to be holding the gaze of several people. Harry grinned as he sensed the protective aura that bristled from Ginny as they wandered around Diagon Alley and he fell in love with her just a little bit more.

*****************

Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys arrived at Kings Cross shortly after half past ten on the morning of September first. Kingsley had sent ministry cars and no mishaps had befallen them as they prepared to go back to school. Harry felt a strange jolt, like a half forgotten memory, as he looked up at the ceiling of the station and he felt a pang of sorrow mingled with lingering peace as he remembered his experience with Dumbledore in the realm that was not quite death.

Ginny looked a little pale and she clutched Harry's hand a little tighter as they approached the wall between Platforms nine and ten. Ron and George had accompanied them and Harry noticed Hermione clung a little closer to Ron than she usually did. Charlie was going back to Romania later that morning, having been convinced to extend his holiday long enough to see them off to Hogwarts. He and George amused themselves by spotting wizards among the crowd of Muggles. Just as they were about to file through onto the Platform one by one Bill and Fleur came rushing towards them.

"Oh good, we caught you," said Bill, slightly out of breath. "Is Percy here yet?"

"Percy?" asked Ginny. "Are you all coming this morning?"

"Sure are, squirt," said Charlie, pulling her into a hug. "Special treat for our favourite girl." Ginny smiled.

"Not all of us," George said suddenly, looking forlorn. Ginny threw herself at him and engulfed him in a hug.

"Oh, George," she murmured into his shoulder. George pulled her close.

"I'm sorry he couldn't be here," he apologised. "I'm sorry Fred couldn't come and see you off on your last year at Hogwarts." A lone tear rolled down George's cheek. Ginny wiped it away with her sleeve.

"He's here," she whispered, barely loud enough for Harry to hear. "I can feel him." George smiled tearfully at her.

"I know," he replied. "But it's not the same." Ginny shook her head.

"I know it's not," Ginny said softly. She cleared her throat. "Let's go through." George nodded resolutely and he let Ginny go and he headed for the wall along with Bill, Fleur and his parents.

"I'll just go through the Muggle way with Mum and Dad," said Hermione. "I'll meet you on the Platform." She and her parents hurried off to a small, deserted ticket office a short distance away.

"I didn't know there was a Muggle way," said Harry, amazed again at how much he still didn't know about the wizarding world.

"Of course there is," said a voice behind him. "There would have to be wouldn't there or every Muggle who leans against the wall would fall through." Harry turned to see a tall blond boy eyeing him disdainfully. There was a shorter boy standing next to him and a short mousy woman behind him.

"Really Gerald," the woman protested. "There's no need to be so rude."

"Well, mother, perhaps you should go the Muggle way," answered Gerald. "I'm sure I can figure out a simple thing like getting onto a train platform."

"We'll show you," said Ron good-naturedly. "These two are going to Hogwarts too. I can show you the Muggle entrance if you like?"

"Oh no, no. I'll say goodbye here," the woman said. "I'm not sure I want to get all caught up in that magic stuff."

"Really, mother if it is such a trial for you, why are you sending us both to Hogwarts?" asked Gerald pointedly. "I know I would much rather continue my education at home as I have experienced these past three years."

"You know that isn't possible now," uttered the woman in a pained tone. The smaller boy bounced impatiently on his toes.

"Oh come on Gerald, it'll be fun!" he exclaimed. "I heard there's a giant there and you have to wrestle a troll and you get to sleep in a tower!"

"Gilbert, I don't care if I get to sleep on a bed of roses, I don't want to go," Gerald sniffed. "Mother, I do wish you'd reconsider. How do we know it's safe now anyway? Because some little man came along and convinced you?"

"It's got nothing to do with that professor person!" cried Gilbert. "He said that Harry Potter bloke fixed things, didn't he Mum? All those reasons Dad didn't let you go before are fixed now, so we can go! I got my letter this year! I'm not missing Hogwarts because you have a thing against little people!"

"Maybe Hagrid should have been sent to this lot?" Ron muttered under his breath to Harry who stifled a snort.

"Oh great, you little pipsqueak, now you've made her cry," Gerald hissed at his younger brother. "I told you not to mention Dad!" Their mother was crying in earnest and Ginny hurried over to the woman.

"What happened to your dad?" asked Ron.

"Went to work one day and never came back," said Gilbert simply. "He worked at that Ministry place. Never came home one day. Some little bloke in a purple top hat came and made us go into hiding, said it was on account of there being a war on. I dunno, I never saw no fighting or nothing." The small boy shrugged.

"Father had kept his job at The Ministry, despite the dangers," Gerald interjected. "It was rather foolish of him in light of the fact that he curtailed my attendance at Hogwarts because of those very dangers, starting with that Harry Potter fellow."

"Dad reckoned he was seein' things," said Gilbert in a low voice. "Changed his mind about a year later, but still wouldn't let Gerald go to school. He's been taught at home, but now we're going to Hogwarts."

"So, your dad kept you home on account of Harry Potter being supposedly off his rocker?" asked Ron pointedly, glancing sideways at Harry as he spoke to Gerald.

"Oh yes," replied Gerald officiously as his mother blew his nose loudly on a handkerchief Ginny offered her. "I got my Hogwarts letter three years ago, but it was just too risky for me to go. Apparently, so they say, he turned out not to be crazy, but Dad said there was a war on by then so he taught me at home, in the evenings."

"His education's woefully behind," interjected Gilbert gleefully. Gerald slugged him on the shoulder.

"You don't know that," he muttered angrily. "I am a very bright young man."

"Blimey, this one'd get along well with Perce," muttered Ron.

"So, we're going to Hogwarts now," continued Gilbert, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Mum says we need to go cause she can't teach us no magic. She's Muggle, you know. I'm so excited, I thought I was gonna miss out on Hogwarts, but I get to go and learn how to fly a broomstick and to play Quidditch and make potions and all that stuff. I went and got my own wand and everything! And you know what else?" The boy lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

"What?" asked Ron in an equally conspiratorial tone.

"I heard that Harry Potter was going too," said Gilbert, looking around furtively. "That will be so cool." Gerald sniffed disdainfully.

"Overblown tripe," he stated definitively. "As if he ended an entire war, he's only seventeen."

"Eighteen," uttered Harry automatically.

"You take that back!" said Gilbert through gritted teeth as he turned on his older brother. "He did, I read that bit of newspaper and you don't know what you are talking about!"

"Stop it both of you," scolded their mother suddenly. "You both know as much as each other and scrapping about who has the better opinion isn't the way to go, now come and say goodbye to your old mum and don't forget to send me one of those eagles when you get there safely."

"Owls, mother," said Gerald. "Owls carry letters, not eagles."

"Bird, same as the other," said the woman dismissively. "Now, Gerald Chumley, you look after your little brother, do you hear me?" Gerald nodded stiffly. Mrs Chumley turned to her younger son and attempted to smooth his hair.

"I'll write as soon as I get there, Mum," Gilbert said excitedly. "I'll tell you what House I got sorted into and whether or not you have to take a test like _he_ says you do because he isn't right about everything. Just like he's not right about Harry Potter!"

"How do you know he's six foot tall?" sniffed Gerald. Harry looked at Ron ruefully as the latter tried not to burst out laughing.

"Of course he's tall!" cried Gilbert indignantly. "All heroes are tall! Is Superman short? Batman's not a midget!"

"Boys! That's enough!" Mrs Chumley cried. "Now these nice young people are going to Hogwarts too and they will show you how to get onto the Platform, I'll see you at Christmas." The two boys hugged their mother goodbye.

"Here Ginny, you show 'em how it's done," said Ron, taking hold of the boys' trolley. Ginny smiled at Gilbert and offered him her hand.

"Just walk straight at the wall here," she said. "Mum always said do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous." Gilbert looked suddenly nervous. He looked back at his mother uncertainly who tried to nod encouragingly at him.

"Er, well, perhaps we don't need to go at all," Gilbert said backing away a little. Ginny smiled a little mischievously at him and leaned close.

"If you come through with me we can go and find Harry Potter, I'll introduce you," she said in a loud whisper.

"Do you know him?" asked Gilbert, his eyes as wide as saucers. Ginny nodded, the hint of a smirk twitching at the corners of her mouth.

"I bet it's just a rumour that he's going," said Gerald rolling his eyes. "And I bet _she_ doesn't even know him. If you're not going through that wall Gilbert, I will." With that Gerald walked purposefully to the wall, hesitated only a moment before closing his eyes and walking forward. Gilbert gasped.

"Cool," he breathed, grabbing Ginny's still outstretched hand and tugging her towards the barrier. "Come on, I don't care what he says, if you say you know Harry Potter, then I reckon you do." Gilbert waved at his mother as he and Ginny stepped through the barrier and disappeared from sight.

"Come on mate," said Ron, still pushing the other boys' trolley. He turned to Mrs Chumley. "We'll see them on the train for you and Harry here will make sure they write home tonight."

"Harry?" Mrs Chumley's eyes went wide. "Are you … Harry Potter?"

"Yeah he is," said Ron, chuckling. "I can't wait to see the look on those boys' faces when they find out!" Mrs Chumley smiled slightly but her face was worn and tired.

"I just … it's hard without their father. I don't know what happened to him and it's been very hard on them," she said. "I do hope I'm doing the right thing. That Flitwick man … oh I'm worrying too much, they are sensible boys." She stopped abruptly, still looking worried.

"Don't worry," said Harry quietly. "Hogwarts is a very safe place, they'll be fine."

"You'll look after my boys?" Mrs Chumley suddenly asked fearfully. Harry swallowed and nodded.

"Sure," he said, feeling an obligation to the fatherless boys.

"Thank you," she whispered. She looked longingly at the wall before melting into the crowd. Harry Stared after her, lost in thought. He was woken from his reverie by an elbow to the ribs.

"Come on mate," Ron urged. "You don't wanna miss the train." Harry grasped the handle of his trolley, nodded slightly and he and Ron headed for the wall between platform nine and three quarters.

The two of them emerged into the mist that surrounded the platform, rolling off the brilliant red steam train. Gerald and Gilbert had not gone far and were still staring in awe at the Hogwarts Express.

"Wow," said Gilbert as the mist cleared a little and they could see the people on the platform bustling about stowing trunks and cages, waving cheery goodbyes to family and exchanging hugs and kisses. Harry watched as he saw classmates greet each other and first years stare up in wonder at the brilliant red engine as their parents smoothed their hair and delivered what were obviously lectures on staying safe, eating their vegetables and writing home.

He felt a pang that he had never had his parents there to do that for him but as his eyes swept the platform and he saw Molly and Arthur chatting with Dean and Seamus's parents. Molly and Arthur had been there for him and there were now and he felt a rush of warmth and affection for them. As if she felt his eyes on her Molly looked up at him and smiled before returning to her conversation.

Hermione had donned her Hogwarts Robes; her Head Girl badge gleaming on her chest. Harry saw Neville's grandmother emerge from the mist near the end of the train, her vulture hat bobbing precariously. Neville trailed after her, clutching Trevor. He looked up at Harry, his face brightened and he waved.

"Hi!" he shouted and Ron and Harry each raised a hand in greeting. Hermione and Neville both began hurrying towards them just as Dean and Seamus hung out of one of the windows near the front of the train and began waving madly.

"Hiya!" Dean called out and suddenly Harry realised people were being to turn and stare at them. He reached unconsciously for Ginny's hand and held it tightly. She squeezed back.

"This is _brilliant_!" exclaimed Gilbert while Gerald sniffed disdainfully.

"Why aren't you in your robes?" Hermione demanded shrilly of Harry as she reached them. "You've _got_ to set an example!"

"Calm down, Hermione," said Ron, winding his arms around her and pulling her close. Harry saw a measure of desperation in Ron's embrace that he hadn't noticed before and as he watched Hermione smile softly as Ron whispered something in her ear, he felt a sudden ache in his own heart at being away from Ron.

"He's got ages to get changed and get out his shiny new badge," continued Ron. "It'll be fine."

"Well it is best he starts off on the right foot," said a new voice directly behind them and Percy strode towards Ginny, giving her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek and extending a hand to shake Ron's. "Do have a good year at Hogwarts Ginevra. I am very pleased I was able to make it this morning."

"Have you met young Gerald?" deadpanned Ron, indicating the blond boy standing a few feet away, trying not to look excited by the Hogwarts Express and the hustle and bustle. Percy shook Gerald's hand and they commenced a conversation immediately. Harry caught Ginny's eye and jerked his head imperceptibly towards Percy and Gerald and she smirked. The group began to move away from the barrier slowly and Molly looked up.

"Percy Weasley! There you are!" she exclaimed loudly. "I thought you weren't going to make it to see Ginny off!" She bustled over to them, fussing over Percy and greeting Gilbert and Gerald warmly. Anyone who had not been staring at them now began doing so and Harry felt his face heat as the platform fell almost eerily silent.

"Why are they all _staring_?" asked Gilbert anxiously into the silence.

"Don't let it worry you," said Ron. "It's me. I'm extremely famous." Harry caught Ginny's eye and the two of them grinned at each other.

"_Ron!_" exclaimed Hermione. Gilbert was looking at Ron with wide eyes.

"Are you really?" he said, bouncing a little on his toes. "What'dya do? Did'ya fight a dragon? Or maybe a troll, or a werewolf?" Harry stifled a chuckle.

"No, not all of them," said Ron seriously. "At least not all together." Gilbert's eyes grew wider; the first year was clearly impressed.

"You _have_ fought a dragon?" he breathed.

"Don't be ridiculous, Gilbert," sniffed Gerald impatiently. "No one fights _dragons_. No one who's sane goes _near_ dragons."

"Hands up if you've been near a dragon!" said George cheerfully. Harry, Hermione and Ron looked at each other and burst out laughing and Charlie snorted while slapping Bill on the back.

"Been near a dragon, Bill?" he chortled.

"It was chained up in the bank when I went near it," protested Bill. "I'm not the fool who does it on purpose Mr Dragon Handler." Gilbert turned to Charlie.

"You're a dragon handler?" he asked, his little face tilted to take in the older man. Charlie nodded and Gilbert turned to his older brother. "See, people do go near dragons. You don't know everything!"

"All right, all right everyone," broke in Molly, a smile on her face. "It's time to get on the train before you miss it. Bill, Charlie, put the trunks on the train. Now off you two go, go and find a carriage. Have a good time!" She waved Gilbert and Gerald off as they still argued about dragons. Molly's smile had turned a little tearful as she looked at Ginny. George had engulfed her in a big hug and Ron was clinging to Hermione. It was as if Molly saw no option left and she swooped on Harry and pulled him into an embrace.

"Oh, do be careful dear," she said.

"If I get into trouble this year," started Harry as he pulled out of her embrace and shook Arthur's hand, "then there is something seriously wrong with me!"

"Just don't go looking for trouble," Molly said firmly as she straightened his jumper, fussing over him as if he were one of her own sons.

"I won't," Harry smiled at her softly. She patted his cheek and turned to Hermione who was looking very teary. Harry looked up at Ron.

"Seeya, mate," he almost whispered. It was unbelievable, they all knew this moment was coming; they had for months but now that the moment was here there was something surreal about it. As if it wasn't really happening as if they'd never really understood that it would. Molly released Hermione and began fussing over Ginny as Bill and Charlie wandered back over to say their goodbyes. It was as if everything else existed outside the three of them.

"You'll write, won't you," Hermione asked Ron.

"Every day," Ron said with such solemnity that Harry rolled his eyes.

"Sure, Ron."

"I'm going to miss both of you," Ron said quietly and then he hugged Harry, who was not as surprised he once would have been.

"We'll miss you too," Harry answered for them both.

"Look after my girl," said Ron as Hermione burrowed her way between the two of them, winding her arms around Ron's neck as Harry pulled away. Somehow though, Hermione ended up in Harry's arms and the cocoon around them was broken, Molly trying to hustle them onto the train as it whistled shrilly.

"Now, write when you get there!" called Molly as Harry clambered up the steps to join Ginny who was already on the train, hanging out of a window near the door of a carriage near the engine. "And make sure you eat properly!" Harry pulled Hermione onto the train after him and the three of them hung out the window.

"Have a good year!" called Arthur.

"Be good!" smirked George.

"Look after my baby, won't you Harry?" said Molly as she stepped right up to the train.

"I can look after myself mum," said Ginny, rolling her eyes expressively.

"Well then, you look after Harry," was all her mother said, her eyes suspiciously wet. The train began to shudder like it was about to move and Ginny's brothers and father were all waving and cheering when suddenly Percy put his arm around his now sobbing mother.

"Don't worry, mother," Harry heard him say, just before the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station. "They will look after each other."


	26. Chapter 26

**26. Return**

The Prefect compartment was full of squashy chintz covered chairs and ancient wingbacks covered in velvet. Harry was lounging in an overstuffed armchair and staring idly out the window at the passing scenery as Hermione droned on, her wand waving wildly and her parchment rustling constantly. He had tried staring at things inside the compartment but he kept catching either the eye of the awed fifth year Hufflepuffs or Ginny. The fifth years would giggle and look away quickly while Ginny would pull a face at him. Harry found himself either turning an embarrassing red or suppressing the urge to burst out laughing. He dreaded looking at any of the other students.

He'd attempted to look friendly and welcoming at first but his resolve crumbled as he watched Romilda Vane boring holes in the back of Ginny's head and a fifth year Gryffindor girl he didn't know gazing at him with adoration. Additionally, the disgusting display by one of Slytherin's sixth year Prefects and Draco Malfoy was enough to make his stomach turn. And so Harry gazed out the window while Hermione delivered her lecture on the importance they would be to the reestablishment of learning in the hallowed halls of Hogwarts.

"Isn't that right, Harry?" Harry jumped, startled. Hermione was looking at him with an air of superiority as if she knew he had not been listening.

"Of course you're right Hermione," Harry smiled. "Isn't she Romilda? Tell the rest of us what you liked about Hermione's little presentation." Romilda blanched and stammered.

"Er, well I liked the… um, part where she said how it was like … our job to guide all the… um, new people and sort of help them out." By the time she finished Romilda was bright red.

"Yeah, that part was really great Hermione," added Neville.

"Granger, I know you're eager but really, a number of us have been Prefects already," drawled Malfoy, not bothering to sit up from the position he was in, half sprawled in the lap of the sixth year Prefect. "I think we know what we are doing. In fact I, as you know, have already been _Head Boy_ so I am sure I don't need _your_ help with anything."

There was a momentary silence as every single pair of eyes in the carriage flicked from Malfoy to Harry and back again. Harry leant back in his armchair and propped his feet up on a nearby pouf.

"Excellent Malfoy," he said. "You can take all the new Prefects and go and do that patrol thing I've heard so much about. After all, they will want the expert to show them how it's done." He stared at Malfoy, arms crossed over his chest, while Draco opened and closed his mouth like a fish.

"I'll help you Draco," simpered the girl he'd recently been draped over.

"Fabulous," said Harry brightly. "Off you trot then. Take Orla and Stewart here with you." The two Ravenclaw fifth years stared at Harry in horror but he smiled at them reassuringly.

"I … er …" Orla Quirke trailed off.

"Draco, here, is going to be helpful," insisted Harry. "Because being helpful is what Hermione's been telling us, hasn't she?" The two Ravenclaws glanced at Luna as they stood up and followed a disgruntled Malfoy out of the compartment, the unknown Slytherin Prefect hanging onto his arm and his every word.

"I didn't think you were listening, Harry," Hermione hissed at Harry as the door slid shut on them.

"I wasn't," Harry smiled back as he unfolded himself and stood up. "Ron got me your notes so I could know what you were on about without worrying if I fell asleep or got distracted. I've been reading them every night for a week." Hermione looked at him, her eyes glittering suspiciously before she suddenly launched herself at him. Harry staggered back a step and nearly fell into his armchair.

"Oh! You _studied_!" she cried. Then she burst into tears. "And Ron helped you cheat! I miss him so much!" Harry looked helplessly over the top of her head at Ginny and Neville as Hermione sobbed into his shoulder. Ginny was frantically miming that he should put his arms around her and Neville was shaking his head sorrowfully.

"She awfully emotional," said Luna. "I do hope the Flurgumbles haven't gotten to her. It would be such a shame." Harry rolled his eyes and put his arms around Hermione, patting her on the back a little more skilfully than he had a few months ago.

"Well, um, here … you can all go now and, um… just patrol the train every once in a while," said Ginny gesturing at the rest of the Prefects still scattered around the compartment.

"We got a schedule before …" began a skinny Hufflepuff with a shock of blond hair and piercing blue eyes whom Harry did not recognise.

"Yeah well this year is … different," supplied Neville hastily. "Just make sure you do a little patrol every now and then."

"Who is he anyway?" whispered a small, dark-haired Slytherin as the younger students filed out of the compartment and into the corridor. Dennis Creevey looked sideways at the other boy.

"That's Neville Longbottom," he said in a long suffering tone as if the boy should have known. The dark little Slytherin gaped as Romilda pushed him through the door.

'Really?" Harry heard him ask excitedly as he left. "Neville _Longbottom_? My mum says he's a hero, that's what she says …"

"Hear that Neville?" teased Ginny as she closed the door after the other students. "You're a _hero_." Neville sighed as he plopped down in a nearby armchair.

"Yes, well, being a hero is not all it's cracked up to be," he complained. "Gran and I got accosted twice in Madam Malkin's and four times in Flourish and Blotts last week. I had to duck into Quality Quidditch Supplies to get away from this one girl …" Harry laughed.

"Ron loves it," he said. "He spent half an hour signing autographs in front of the Menagerie last Thursday. George went down to yell at him because we were swamped but it didn't dampen Ron's enthusiasm. I think he's the only one who likes it!"

"Well Ronald always has been a little different," said Luna serenely as she turned the page of her Quibbler. Hermione sniffed and straightened up.

"Sorry, Harry," she mumbled, awkwardly straightening his robes.

"Don't worry about it Hermione," Harry insisted. Hermione sat heavily in his chair.

"It's just so …"

"Wrong," supplied Ginny as she waved her wand furiously at a nearby wing-back with a threadbare red velvet cover. The chair shuddered a little and then stayed still. Ginny stabbed her wand viciously and flicked it several times before the chair finally stretched itself out and turned into a couch. She sank into it, kicking her shoes off as she propped them on the opposite arm rest.

"Yeah, wrong …" echoed Hermione absently.

"Wrong?" parroted Harry, staring at Ginny's legs as she flexed her toes and her robes slid aside.

"Yes Harry," smirked Ginny, shifting slightly so that her skirt rode a little higher. "Wrong because Ron's missing; the five of us are here … without Ron."

"Yeah, that's wrong," muttered Harry. He took the two steps to Ginny's couch and lifted her legs up so he could sit under them. Neither Ginny nor Harry minded that her skirt rode up a few more inches as he caressed her calves.

"Oh, show a little bit of interest," muttered Hermione. Harry looked up at her in surprise but she was smiling at them.

"Sorry," Harry apologised sheepishly.

"Don't worry, it'll be first Hogsmeade weekend before we know it," said Ginny, trailing a hand across Harry's neck. His skin tingled where she touched it. "We can all go together and meet up with Ron. Well, unless you guys have plans?" She turned to Neville and Luna.

"No, I haven't got any plans," said Luna making a flourish in her magazine with a large purple quill. "Have you got a new girlfriend Neville?"

"Um, n-no," Neville stammered.

"Oh good," said Luna as she turned a page and suddenly stabbed the quill aggressively into the page. "Then you can be my boyfriend without fear of reprisal." Neville raised his eyebrows and looked desperately at Harry.

"B-boyfriend?"

"Yes, we should give it a try," Luna continued, pulling the quill out of the magazine and turning it upside down. "I suggest we make people aware of our new relationship at the feast tonight."

"Um …" Neville was clearly speechless and he looked desperately at Harry.

"Well, if you're not going to just _ask_ Hannah out, Neville," said Ginny as she stared at the ceiling, "then you may as well give it a whirl with Luna."

"But I can't ask Hannah out, she hasn't come back to Hogwarts," Neville said a trifle morosely.

"Oh, what is she doing then?" asked Hermione as she straightened her parchment.

"She's got some sort of traineeship or something at The Leaky Cauldron," answered Neville. "She said she wants to be like a hostess or something. I don't know what she meant. She's learning how to run the pub."

"Oh, she'll be great at that," said Luna suddenly. "I expect you'll marry her one day."

"Didn't you just ask Neville out?" asked Hermione sharply. "Why would you say he's going to marry Hannah?" Luna lowered the Quibbler and stared at Hermione, her eyes looking more protuberant than ever.

"Everybody needs practice Hermione," she said. "I am quite willing to be Neville's practice. After all didn't you practice with Viktor Krum and Ronald practiced with Lavender Brown and Harry practiced with Cho. And Ginny has had a lot of practice-"

"Thanks Luna," interrupted Neville hastily as he glanced at Hermione and Ginny who had turned pink and were both glaring at Luna.

"Besides," added Luna, going back to her magazine, "going out with me solves many problems. If you are going out with me it will be easier to turn down all the other girls who throw themselves at you." Neville just stared at her.

"Why would he want to do that?" asked Harry incredulously.

"Because I heard Romilda Vane telling Lucy Watford and Chelsea Stone that she was going after him this year and nothing was going to stand in her way," answered Luna serenely.

"Luna?" said Neville suddenly.

"Yes Neville?"

"Will you go out with me?"

"Of course," answered Luna, laying her quill in the Quibbler like a bookmark. She stood up and grabbed Neville's hand, pulling him to the door. "Let's go and find the trolley, I feel like a Pumpkin Pasty and I can check if there are Pluffwogs in the Liquorice Wands."

Harry stared after them in wonder and Ginny giggled.

"That is going to be interesting," she said and Harry could only agree.

The rest of the trip was uneventful except for the time Dennis Creevey came stumbling into the Prefects compartment mumbling about his eyesight. It took some effort but Hermione managed to discover the source of his distress. Dennis had inadvertently opened the loo at the end of the carriage while doing a patrol.

"I thought it was a cloakroom!" he wailed. "B-but Neville and L-Luna! They … with the … horrible …"

Dennis had been the first to learn of Neville and Luna's new status. He was entirely unwilling to explain exactly what it was that had him covering his eyes and stammering incoherently. Harry could only make an educated guess. Given his recent thoughts about dragging Ginny into a small confined and _private_ space, it wasn't difficult to imagine at all.

It wasn't easy for Harry to keep a straight face when Neville and Luna came back into the compartment. Ginny grinned at him and Hermione was clearly trying not to laugh as she straightened the already tidy papers on her lap. Luna sat down and opened her Quibbler before addressing Neville who was standing in the doorway with a dazed expression on his face.

"I think you should ask Hermione to clean that lipstick off your uniform Neville," Luna said idly, turning the page of her magazine. "She's got excellent skills in cleaning charms and Professor McGonagall will probably pick up on it otherwise."

It was a full five minutes before Hermione was sober enough to perform the requisite charm.

*****************

Darkness fell over them like a blanket when they arrived at Hogsmeade Station and students were spilling onto the platform, chattering excitedly. Harry peered cautiously out of his compartment. When he'd attempted to buy some Chocolate Frogs from the trolley at about four o'clock he'd been accosted by four incredibly silly girls. He later insisted to Ginny that they had tried to touch him inappropriately. Ginny had only grinned and subtly reached out and pinched his bum.

"Oh Harry," said Hermione as she pushed him into the corridor. "Get a move on. You just need to act normally."

"Oh yeah, and what is normal?" muttered Harry as he tried to flatten his hair and make his way to the end of the carriage to step down onto the platform. He hesitated before opening the door, peering out of the window to see Hagrid standing on the end of the platform, calling _'Firs' years over here!'_ as if nothing had changed. Harry felt so different. How could things be going on as normal and yet be so different? Surely things had changed. Was he the only one who didn't notice how different the air felt? Harry could sense a mixture of fear and anticipation coupled with the kind of excitement that signalled the start of a school year.

The distant chatter of students speculating about the feast and the booming of Hagrid's voice blended with the water lapping softly at the edge of the lake. Harry could hear the creaking of the Thestral-drawn carriages and soft snuffling sounds as the animals waited patiently. These sounds were both familiar and foreign. Harry felt apprehensive yet at the same time he felt at peace; as if he was drifting unanchored on a calm sea. Ginny grabbed his hand and he turned to smile at her. Her presence was his anchor; it was all he needed. Unable to stop himself, he leaned down and kissed her softly, as if drawing the strength he'd need from her, before pushing open the carriage door and stepping down onto the platform.

The air was brisk and a gust of wind lifted the hem of Harry's robes as he glanced at the group of students with Hagrid. A handful of them were bigger than the rest and he spotted Gerald among this group, looking long-suffering as Gilbert danced around him, proclaiming his excitement. Hagrid caught sight of Harry and raised an arm in greeting. Harry waved back as several of the smaller students turned around to see who Hagrid was acknowledging. Several jaws dropped in unison and Harry stifled a groan.

"All right?" called Hagrid.

"All right!" Harry called back.

"Of to the carriages with yer then!" called Hagrid over the wind, which seemed to be picking up. He turned to the students in front of him. "Don' want ter be late! All right First' Years over here. If you've not been to 'Ogwarts before, this way!"

"How are we going to get to school if we don't go in the carriages?" Harry heard Gilbert say.

"I do believe he wants us to get into those boats," Gerald replied, eying the edge of the lake suspiciously.

"Cool," breathed Gilbert.

"I do not wish to travel in a boat," sniffed Gerald. "With this weather, it could be a disaster." Hagrid suddenly looked worried.

"But yer hafta go in the boats," he said. "It's how yer get inter 'Ogwarts."

"Don't worry!" said Dean materialising from behind Harry and striding towards the starting students. "No one's drowned in years!" He clapped the younger boy on the back so hard that Gerald stumbled.

"I nearly drowned," piped up Dennis Creevey from a few metres away. "But Hagrid pulled me right out! You'll be fine!"

"He, on the other hand might not be," muttered Seamus from behind Harry. Seamus spoke so quietly Harry could barely hear him. Harry looked at Dennis. He seemed all right, but when you looked closer you could see that his shoulders were hunched up around his ears and his face looked tense and drawn. Harry turned away and started towards the carriages before stopping abruptly. He could hear the new students behind him laughing and splashing as they clambered into the boats but the large number of students in front of him were standing almost silently, still on the platform.

"Some Slytherin fool started blathering about Thestrals and now no one will leave the platform," said Seamus, by way of explanation.

"Luna and Neville convinced a few to go but most people are a bit …" added Dean as he wandered back towards Harry. "What is with those two anyway? Why are they holding hands?"

"They're going out," whispered Ginny. Dean pulled a face.

"She dumped me to go out with him?" Dean asked incredulously. "At least you dumped me for Harry Potter." Seamus snickered and Hermione snorted.

"She also went out with three Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw and tried to seduce Oliver Wood,' said Ginny mischievously, "if that makes you feel any better?"

"Not really," grumbled Dean.

"Let's go and get these people into the carriages," said Harry, desperate to change the subject.

"Yeah," said Seamus, "we figured if anyone can, you can."

Harry's eyes roamed over the students in front of him. He recognised some of them, some were familiar in a way he couldn't place and a few were strangers. Many of them looked worried, some looked scared.

"We have to get them into the carriages," whispered Hermione desperately as she surveyed the students in front of them. "We're in charge. Professor McGonagall expects us to organise the students so they arrive in a timely manner for the Feast." Harry saw no feasible way of doing this and just looked at Hermione helplessly.

"Come on Harry," said Dean. "You say 'jump' and they'll say 'how high?' Just cast a _Sonorous_ and order everyone to get in."

"You can't just order someone to face their fears, Dean," Harry replied.

"I don't wanna see a Thestral," said Dennis suddenly, sounding terribly small. "It'll make it real."

"You have to _help_ them face their fears," said Hermione. Harry looked at her and smiled.

"Yeah, you do," he said. "Come on Dennis, you can ride with us." He slung his arm around the boy's shoulders and began walking forwards.

"B-b-but the Thestrals," stammered Dennis pitifully. "They're horrible and grotesque and what if – what if they e-eat me?"

"They're bad luck," said a small boy nearby. "I don't want no bad luck. I don't wanna die!"

"That's seeing a Grim you idiot," said the boy next to him, rolling his eyes. "You're not gunna _die_ from seeing a Thestral."

"Harry's seen 'em loads of times and he's fine!" said Seamus in an attempt to be helpful.

"Sure, Seamus," muttered Harry. "That'll reassure them."

"They are not bad luck," said Hermione authoritatively. "And they won't eat you-"

"They _are_ classified as dangerous, however," said a prim looking girl folding her arms across her chest. She was unfortunate enough to look a little like Umbridge and the expression on her face did nothing to ease the resemblance.

"Only if you annoy them," retorted Seamus. "Are you planning on getting into a carriage or annoying them?"

"What are you doing here anyway?" asked the girl as she eyed Seamus suspiciously. "You were here last year. I saw you, creating havoc in the corridors. You were a seventh year." Seamus pulled himself up to his full height so that he could look down on her.

"Yeah I was here last year and I was creating havoc and you'd better thank your lucky stars that I was," he said, puffing out his chest importantly. The girl shook her head and turned away.

"Oh so in, mate," murmured Dean appreciatively.

"So in for what?" Harry asked, turning to Dean, leaving the student-herding to Hermione.

"Didn't you see her?" asked Seamus incredulously.

"See her what?" asked Harry. "Look down her nose at you?"

"Oh, Harry, Harry, Harry… you have a lot to learn," said Dean, slapping him on the back. "Oi! You lot get a move on! We don't want to stand on this platform all night!" He waved his other hand at the students in front of them and began moving them forward like a herd of sheep.

"She noticed me," said Seamus, "creating havoc. She so wants me."

"If you say so," said Harry, shrugging as he moved forward with Dennis still under the shelter of one arm and Ginny clinging to his other hand.

"You wait and see!" called Seamus after him. "She'll be going out with me by the end of the month!"

The moving tide of students seemed to stop and Harry had to battle through them to get to the carriages. Hermione was standing in front of a group of awed third years, trying to convince them to get in a carriage. One boy was shaking his head.

"I liked them better horseless," he protested. "How do we know they aren't going to bite us? What if we annoy them and we don't know we annoyed them?"

"They look gross," said a brown-haired girl in disgust.

"I'm not going anywhere near that thing!"

"I can't see anything," protested one boy, several feet away from Harry. "Why can't I see them? I wanna see them!"

"No you don't," muttered Dennis, shivering.

"Well, where were you last year?" Hermione asked the boy, clearly losing patience with the students.

"Oh Roderick here wasn't at school last year," volunteered a short, plump girl Harry thought he recognised as a Ravenclaw.

"I don't reckon you had to be at school last year to be able to see 'em," muttered Kevin Whitby, the Hufflepuff fifth year Prefect. "Taylor Banks wasn't here and he's cowering over in that corner."

Harry sighed heavily; that the war had touched almost every child on the platform, some as young as twelve years old, depressed him. The cacophony of voices rose around him as more students left the platform and caught sight of the creatures for the first time. More than one girl screamed and there were several expressions of loathing or disgust. He slowly moved forward, Dennis slipped out of his grasp and Ginny let go of his hand, probably to comfort Dennis, he didn't know, he was intent on the Thestral harnessed to the second carriage.

The animal was looking at him, its white eyes glowing in the dark so brightly Harry felt like it was communicating with him. The Thestral ducked its head slightly as Harry approached and he realised it was the one he'd ridden to London, which seemed like a lifetime ago. He reached out to stroke the animal on its nose and it raised its head and snuffled softly.

"Better be careful you don't get bitten, Potter!" called a voice full of disdain from the front carriage. Malfoy, the sixth year Prefect and several Slytherins were seated in the carriage.

"I'm not the one who taunted a Hippogriff, Malfoy," Harry retorted. "I actually listened in Care of Magical Creatures." The Thestral stretched its neck out and butted Harry gently on the cheek as if to prove his point. Harry turned questioningly to the Thestral, unaware that his actions and the Thestral's response had caused the students to fall silent.

"Yes, well you always did have a lot of sheer, dumb luck, didn't you Potter?" Malfoy sneered before pulling his head back into the carriage. Harry watched as the first carriage took off and the Thestral he was standing with nudged his hand. Harry turned to it.

"You're ready to go, aren't you?" he asked. The Thestral shook its head as if in agreement. "Okay, let's go." Harry opened the door to the carriage and motioned to Hermione and Ginny.

"Oh yes, come with us," came Luna's voice from inside. Dennis, who was clinging to the end of Ginny's sleeve and walking as far away from the Thestral as he could manage, blanched.

"They're not going to snog again are they?" he whispered desperately and Harry tried in vain to stop the laughter. Pushing Dennis up the carriage steps he turned to watch the student body cautiously approach the carriages and climb in. A few of the girls squawked when the animals turned to look at them and he heard a few sighs of disgust, and saw a few shudders, but the students soon organised themselves into he carriages. Harry ducked back into his own carriage and squeezed in between Hermione and Ginny, stifling a grin at the look of disgust on Dennis's face as Luna swung her legs into Neville's lap, and they headed off along the lane to Hogwarts.

The carriage Malfoy had been riding in was standing outside the entrance to the castle when Harry's carriage pulled up. The Slytherins who had been inside it were nowhere to be seen. Slowly the six of them climbed out of the carriage and stood in front of the great oak doors. Harry, having helped Ginny down, kept a hold of her hand and he felt her hand gripping his tightly.

"Cor the old girl cleaned up all right," said Seamus cheerfully from behind Harry. "Never thought I'd see the castle looking this good again. Made a right mess of it last time we were here-"

"Seamus!" hissed Hermione. Harry turned to look at him and noticed students disembarking from the carriages, but unlike past years no one was streaming up the steps and inside. There was no cheerful noise, just a quiet murmuring and a few people looking sideways at him as if they were waiting for him to do something. Harry cleared his throat.

"Well, the first years'll be arriving soon, we'd better go inside," he said loudly and motioned to Hermione with his head.

"Oh, right, yes of course," added Hermione in a loud voice that sounded just a little bit fake. "Come on then. Let's go." She grabbed Seamus by the elbow and tugged at Dennis's arm and she and Harry started up the steps. It was as if Harry putting his foot on that first step into Hogwarts broke some sort of spell. Students began clambering up the steps, chattering madly. Harry pushed the great oak doors open and stepped into the Entrance Hall. As the students spilled through the great oak doors things began to seem more like students at the start of a new school year and less like a procession of mourners entering a mausoleum.

As he walked through the Entrance Hall Harry could hear excited girls comparing their new robes, nonchalant boys comparing their new haircuts and a few people who had misplaced their pets. He had chosen to let Liberty fly to Hogwarts, not wanting to carry her in a cage on the train. She had grown a bit more in the last few months, looking more and more like Hedwig. Sometimes Harry felt sad as he watched her fly in circles above The Burrow. She looked so much like Hedwig and she showed the exact same disdain for Pig's antics that Hedwig had. A few times he caught himself calling her Hedwig. But she wasn't Hedwig, she didn't respond to Harry and his moods the way Hedwig had, she was a more excitable bird and despite looking almost exactly like Hedwig had, she definitely wasn't the same. Harry was getting used to her but he just couldn't face it if she'd been mistaken for Hedwig by well meaning students. He felt terrible every time he did it himself and a sense of guilt and loss settled in the pit of his stomach like a stone. Harry was grateful to Hagrid for bringing him Liberty and he was fond of the bird but he was finding it hard to bond with her because she simply couldn't replace Hedwig. He now understood why the Weasleys kept Errol.

Crookshanks and Dora had been collected by Hagrid the day before so that Hermione could concentrate on her Head Girl duties without worrying about her cat. Ron had said she was daft if she thought Crookshanks was going to stop her from doing her duties and a full scale row had ensued. Harry had excused himself and gone out to help Ginny secure Dora for transport. He'd actually grown quite attached to the little Creeler and found he was looking forward to seeing her tomorrow.

An awed silence fell as the doors to the Great Hall swung open. Malfoy was standing just outside them and he gazed lazily at the crowd of students.

"Get a move on then," he called out. "I'd like to eat before midnight."

"After Harry," said Dennis Creevey suddenly sounding a lot stronger than he had all day. "He should go first, it's only right." Malfoy scowled.

"It's just a room," he said disdainfully. "Why should Potter go first?"

"That's not just a room, you tosser!" called Seamus.

"Oh, how lovely, a word from the peanut gallery," said Malfoy in faux pleasure. "Come Astoria my dear, let us go and get a seat."

"Astoria?" Harry heard Ginny smirk. "What sort of name is Astoria?"

Although Malfoy and the girl called Astoria had stepped into the Great Hall, Harry could see that none of the other students had moved. A couple of teachers were conversing in low tones at the Head Table. Harry thought it was Professor Vector and Professor Sinistra but he wasn't sure, their bent heads obscured by enormous brimmed hats. Professor Trelwaney, unmistakable in her trailing shawls and large eyeglasses, was sitting watching her plate closely and Professor Sprout, in her patched hat, was quietly gazing out over the Hall and beaming at the students in the doorway. Harry couldn't see Professor McGongall, which surprised him, but he had little time to think on it as Hermione began whispering and poking him.

"Stop that," he snapped at her, rubbing his side where she'd poked him a little overzealously.

"Come on Harry," she hissed back. "If you go in, they'll all go in."

Harry looked at the inviting Hall, its ceiling twinkling with numberless stars, the floating candles casting a warm glow and the tables laid out to greet them. It was just how it had always looked and Harry felt a warm feeling spread outward from the centre of his chest until his fingers and toes tingled. He glanced around at the students milling about in the Entrance Hall and then stepped towards the doors.

Although he had been in the Great Hall since that final confrontation with Voldemort, it had been a broken and dusty place. Now the fireplaces crackled with inviting fires, new beams sat in the corners, holding up lamps on glittering new chains. The four House tables shone once more. Harry looked around in awe, slowly walking into the Great Hall, the rest of the students following him.

"Look," said Ginny softly, her hand gripping his own. Harry looked to where she was pointing with her other hand. There, near the door to the Trophy Room sat Dumbledore's chair. A gleaming new plaque shone above it. The other students were sitting at their House tables, the chatter once again rising in volume, but Harry walked slowly up to the chair, reaching out to touch the plaque and read what was inscribed there.

_This chair remains a monument to the bravery and sacrifice of those headmasters who gave their lives in the service and defence of this school during the Second War._

_Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape_

"I couldn't bear to sit in it," said a soft voice at Harry's shoulder.

"It's a wonderful monument, Professor," said Harry, turning to face McGonagall. "I'm sure you'll follow in their footsteps brilliantly."

"Only for this year, Mr Potter," she answered. "I'm getting on Harry. The school needs someone younger, new blood." She looked suddenly old as she turned away.

Harry lingered over the chair for only a moment longer before turning towards the Gryffindor table. As he passed the Slytherin table he heard Malfoy talking to Astoria who was rapidly being established as his new girlfriend. Harry wondered idly what Pansy Parkinson thought about that but was jolted from his thoughts by Malfoy's sardonic comments.

"It still might be a good year. You can't assume that old McGonagall is going to play favourites. Although I suppose it's a good bet," he drawled. It was as if he knew Harry was approaching. His next comment was designed to goad. "Saint Potter's the Golden Boy, so he's bound to get favoured. Already has if you ask me."

"Malfoy, just let it go," said Harry quietly.

"Well, the reverence you're shown is a bit much to stomach is all," said Malfoy idly. Harry leaned over so that his face was dangerously close to Malfoy's and spoke quietly but forcefully.

"Maybe you had it good here last year," he said. "But most of these kids were fighting for their lives. This place is the scene of a battle. A bloody, fierce battle and probably more than half these students were here for that.

"They saw people _die_ here, Malfoy. They saw the grounds of their school drenched in blood and draped with bodies. They lost friends, they lost family and _you_ will not belittle and mock the struggles and losses we have all experienced."

"Don't assume last year was a picnic for me," said Malfoy darkly. "You weren't even here. What would you know? You were in hiding like a coward."

"Don't you _dare_," hissed Ginny suddenly.

"Or what Weaselette?" Malfoy asked, sniggering. "What's a little girl like you going to do?"

"You don't want to find out Malfoy," Ginny said dangerously. Harry put a restraining hand on her arm but she shook it off. "I can do things to you that would make you cry like a baby. You can thank your little Death Eater friends for my new skills in that area."

"Oh, I am so scared," Malfoy said coolly, mockingly. "Why so protective of Potter anyway? Protecting your way out of that hovel you call a house-" He was cut off by Harry's wand resting against his throat.

"Don't you ever talk to her like that," said Harry through gritted teeth. "And don't you try and tell any of us that what we went through last year wasn't as bad what you did. _Don't_ insult their memory like that."

"_Mr Potter!_" Harry turned to see Professor McGonagall looking thunderous.

"Uh oh, now you're in for it," muttered Malfoy gleefully.

"Am I to understand it that you are engaging in fighting in my school?" the Professor asked. "In the Great Hall no less, before we even begin!" The noise level in the Great Hall dropped as students tried to listen into the altercation. Harry could see Hermione frowning at him.

"It's just … well …"

"See to it that you cease to engage in fighting in this school, Mr Potter," McGonagall interrupted briskly. "Any further incidents will be met with a detention. I am sure you are aware exactly what sort of example we expect from the Head Boy; and from our Prefects Mr Malfoy." She fixed them both with an icy glare before stalking to the Head table in a swish of tartan.

"Harry!" scolded Hermione as Harry when he got to the Gryffindor table. "I can't believe you got into trouble the minute you got here!" Harry just looked at her and shrugged.

"He started it," he said. It was his only defence and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I can't believe she said that to you," said Seamus, shaking his head as they sat down at the Gryffindor table.

"Well, she is the Headmistress," said Harry reasonably.

"Well, I think it's a bit rich," said Dean. "They can't go changing the rules on you like that. I bet no one gave you a detention last time you had a fight in the Great Hall."

They were still laughing riotously when Professor Flitwick entered the room carrying a stool and a battered floppy hat.

Most of the starting students walked into the Great Hall slowly, clearly awed by the vista in front of them. Harry saw the three boys he had met in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Othello was striding solemnly along the aisle between the tables. Hamish was ambling along beside him, his hands in his pockets looking curiously at his surroundings. Dexter was trotting along behind them, his hands clutching a fat toad and his shorter legs struggling to keep up with his friends. His roaming eye caught Harry's and he smiled widely. Harry smiled back and then noticed Gilbert, still galloping in excitement around his older brother who was staring disdainfully at the tattered Hat that sat on the stool and towered over Professor Flitwick.

Gilbert was chattering excitedly and Harry wondered how long the older brother would be able to tolerate the younger boy. At that moment Gilbert noticed Harry and waved at him enthusiastically. Harry returned the greeting and settled back to study the Head Table as he waited for the Sorting to begin. Hagrid had come in before the first years and was sitting next to a short, wiry little man with thinning grey hair. He had a bulbous red nose and beady little eyes. His floppy hat fell incongruously over his left ear. The other teachers were familiar, except for a plump motherly looking witch in sparkling blue robes and a thin man with striking blue eyes and a ridiculous brown fuzzy hat that Harry eventually realised was actually a cat when it suddenly uncurled, stretched and leapt lightly onto the floor. Harry craned his neck to see where it had gone and finally located it curled up on the man's right foot. He nudged Hermione.

"Who do you suppose that is?" he asked her.

"New teacher," Hermione whispered.

"I know that," Harry answered, rolling his eyes. "What's his name?"

"I don't know Harry, now shush," she hissed back. Harry fell silent in quiet contemplation of these new teachers. The short, wiry man with the bulbous nose was acting terribly nervous and when Harry caught his eye the man dropped his serviette and ducked under the table. Harry moved his contemplation to the motherly woman who was sitting next to Professor Trelawney and patting her on the hand gently. She seemed inoffensive enough but simply wasn't giving off enough clues for Harry to think anything more of her.

The thin man with the cat hat most intrigued Harry however. His blue eyes sparkled as he surveyed the students and he seemed at ease, even happy to be there, something Harry rarely recalled seeing in his teachers. Slughorn was sitting on the end of the table wearing an impossibly vibrant purple waistcoat under garish green robes that glittered with silver embroidery.

"Who cares who they are," said Ginny petulantly. "I hope this Sorting doesn't take too long, I'm starving." Harry and Hermione exchanged an amused glance with Neville.

'_Although I look quite ragged,  
If you're careful you will see,  
I've reason t'act the braggart,  
But don't be afraid of me!  
I'll look inside your head, my dears,  
And we shall Sort you out,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat,  
So dance and sing and shout!  
For I shall know where you're to go,  
I'm smarter than the rest,  
Just put me on and you shall see,  
That I know what is best!_

From brave and loyal Gryffindor,  
Some heroes there have come,  
And made the world a safer place,  
So we could have some fun!  
A Hufflepuff is patient,  
Truer friend you'd never seek,  
Despite their soft exteriors,  
They're loyal, but never meek!  
In Ravenclaw you'll find those kind,  
So full of wit and brains.  
They study hard and can tell you,  
About the other planes!  
Slytherins are cunning,  
Of this, no one will deny.  
But underneath the Sorting Hat,  
I see their complex minds!

If in the distant future,  
Just as in the distant past,  
The Houses fight for dominance,  
Hogwarts will end at last.  
Let's put the past behind us,  
And move on as best we can.  
Dark times are left behind us,  
If we just stick to the plan.  
So as the Founders wanted, friends,  
Let's start a new school year,  
And let the hallowed Hogwarts halls,  
Be without former fear_.__'_

Professor Flitwick unfurled a scroll that was longer than he was tall, the end of it trailing on the floor. Harry felt a soft warm hand slide onto his knee and he turned to look at Ginny. She was staring at the Hat, her face pale. She looked apprehensive and just a little unsure.

"All right?" he asked her, sliding an am around her shoulders. She nodded jerkily and did not resist as he drew her closer, and heedless of the crowd around them, pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Ginny's hand tightened on his leg and Harry rubbed her arm slowly.

"It was on fire," was all she whispered, closing her eyes. Harry didn't know what to say so he wrapped his other arm around her and rubbed her back.

"It's okay now," he said to her. "That's all over." He watched the first student sit under the Hat and in his mind's eye he saw the flaming Hat on Neville's head. Harry shook the image from his head and turned back to Ginny.

"I'm all right," she said suddenly, pulling away from Harry and sitting up, pretending she hadn't been unnerved by the sight of the singing Hat.

Harry had not seen the first few Sortings, intent as he had been on Ginny. He looked up and saw a small red-headed girl hurrying to the Hufflepuff table and noticed there were no new additions to the Gryffindor table. Gerald Chumley was now making his way up to the Hat, still eyeing it disdainfully. He put the Hat on his head tentatively and sat there for some time, it looked like he was arguing with it. Eventually Gerald tore the Hat off his head and dumped it forcefully on the stool before stomping towards the Gryffindor table.

"Gryffindor," the Hat squawked belatedly. Gerald sat heavily at the Gryffindor table and barely nodded at Hermione as she greeted him, eyeing the Ravenclaw table longingly. Dennis Creevey was looking at the younger boy askance and many of the Ravenclaws seemed relieved. The tense silence that blanketed the rest of the hall was broken by Gilbert. He clattered noisily up the steps before Professor Flitwick even called his name and picked up the Hat carefully.

"Sorry about him," he said cheerfully to the Hat as he straightened out the tip and dusted it off a little. "He's a bit of a git and thinks he's right brainy. I 'spect he wanted Ravenclaw, didn't he? I can't wait to see where you think I should go!" The Great Hall broke out in titters and giggles as Gilbert placed the Hat delicately on his own head. It was only seconds later that the rip in the brim of the hat opened and shouted 'GRYFFINDOR!'

"Well it's obvious that one's got guts," said Seamus as Gilbert, a wide smile on his face galloped towards the Gryffindor table.

"Welcome to Gryffindor, Gilbert," smiled Hermione, not put off by his older brother's earlier snub.

"You're the Head Girl, aren't you?" Gilbert said breathlessly. Hermione nodded. "I know. I could see the badge on your robes. I'm very observant like that." The boy subsided for a moment and his brother scowled at him.

"What do you think of Hogwarts so far?" Ginny asked him.

"I think it's _brilliant_," said Gilbert excitedly. "Did you see that big guy who took us on the boats? He's like a _giant_! I bet he's the biggest man in the whole world!" Hermione stifled her laughter by turning it into a cough and Harry grinned.

"Yeah, that's Hagrid," said Ginny. "He's the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, look." She pointed at the head table where the teachers were watching intently as Doris Mumford and Boris Newman were sorted into Hufflepuff. Seamus snorted.

"Doris and Boris, Hufflepuff has scored this year!" he chuckled as the rather pudgy boy squeezed into a seat at his new House table. The number of first years left was dwindling and only a handful of the older starting students remained when Gilbert began talking again.

"I hope there will be more in Gryffindor," he said. "I wouldn't like to write home and tell Mum that I don't think I'll have any friends in my year." The boy frowned slightly.

"That is if you write to Mother at all," said Gerald pompously. "I daresay you'll get so caught up in the … _excitement_ of everything that you'll forget and it will be up to me to remind you."

"I'm not going to forget," Gilbert said petulantly. "You're the one who gets caught up in all your reading, and your studying. I'll probably have to remind you!"

"Well, just see that you write to her," Gerald said stiffly.

"I will if you will," retorted Gilbert.

"You'll both write to her," interjected Harry. "Every week." Gerald merely looked down his nose at Harry but Gilbert turned to him excitedly.

"You're the Head Boy," he said. Gilbert jerked a thumb at Hermione. "Your badge matches hers. I didn't know you were the Head Boy when we met you at the train station." He seemed about to say something else but wasn't given the chance because the Gryffindor table erupted in cheers as another first year was sorted into the House.

Othello made his way towards the Gryffindor table smiling brightly and was immediately pounced on by Gilbert. The two of them began an animated conversation that had Gerald scowling heavily. When Hamish was sorted into Gryffindor moments later he and Othello high-fived each other enthusiastically and the three boys sat watching and waiting. Harry knew they were waiting for Dexter. The small boy stood nervously, clutching his toad until Professor Flitwick called out '_Marjorie Smith_,' when the toad suddenly leapt out of Dexter's hands and hopped over to Marjorie, a tall, thin girl with long blonde hair and rosy pink cheeks. Marjorie screeched, Dexter dived for the toad and Othello and Hamish both leapt from their seats.

"I told you buying a toad was a bad idea!" Hamish bellowed. Othello reached the still screeching Marjorie and dived beneath the hem of her robes, undoubtedly in search of Dexter's toad but Marjorie obviously didn't see it that way and began beating him on the back while still dancing about.

"CATCH THAT FROG!" she screeched over and over again.

"Bartholomew!" cried Dexter plaintively, looking about in vain for the toad.

"I keep telling you," called Hamish excitedly, "call him Bart!" Othello, defending himself from the blows Marjorie was raining on him, pulled away from the girl, his hands raised over his head.

The motherly new teacher and Professor Sinistra hurriedly got up from their chairs and hurried towards the first years, most of whom were now in various states of distress with one small girl crying piteously into a tiny white handkerchief. Hermione, galvanised into action as the sight of the crying child, grabbed Harry by the arm.

"Come on," she said urgently, "we need to help!" Harry had no idea what exactly she wanted him to do but obediently got up, prepared to throw himself into the chaos. Dexter was still wailing plaintively for his pet.

"Oi! Neville, find that toad!" shouted Harry over the din. Neville leapt up and scanned the floor before heading to the Ravenclaw table where several girls were standing on one of the benches.

Othello, obviously unaware or uncaring of his earlier faux pas had dived towards Marjorie again and she recommenced her screeching, adding to the caterwauling. Hermione had reached the small girl crying into her handkerchief and the two teachers had settled down a few of the other students, one of whom, however, was trying to climb on the Sorting Hat stool wailing about mice. Professor Flitwick was struggling under the Hat which had been knocked onto his head and Harry could hear the diminutive Professor squeaking that he had already been sorted and that the 'blasted Hat' should know that. Harry reached out and pulled Othello upright by the back of his robes.

"All right Marjorie, that's enough," he said. "Othello is not trying to look up your robes. Othello, mate, don't go looking under girl's robes even if it is to find a toad. You and Hamish go and sit down, next to Gilbert." The two boys did as they were bid, both looking slightly dishevelled and sheepish.

"Get off the stool," Harry motioned to the girl who was still perched on the edge of it and strode over to pull the Hat off Flitwick's head while the Professor struggled with his scroll of parchment.

"The rest of you just calm down," Harry commanded. "You're not going to die at the hands of Dexter's toad." The first years looked at him with a mixture of awe and amazement and the crying and screeching slowly subsided.

"I've got the toad!" called Neville. He was emerging from under the Hufflepuff table, the fat toad clasped in his hands.

"Dexter," Harry said patiently. "Get a carry basket for Bartholomew, okay?" Dexter nodded solemnly as Neville reached him and handed back his toad.

"I think we're ready to continue with this Sorting, Professor," said Harry.

"Well, this is the biggest farce I have even been witness to," said Gerald loudly. "It looks like these teachers have no control whatsoever. _Students_ shouldn't be telling us what to do."

"That's enough, Gerald," said Harry. "I know you don't want to be here, but just make the effort, okay?"

"You can't tell me what to do!" retorted the boy, his voice rising to a shout. "Who died and made you the boss anyway?"

A deathly silence fell over the Great Hall. Harry scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"Oi, do you know who this is mate?" Seamus asked. He looked ready to get up and deck Gerald.

"He's the Head Boy," said Gerald scathingly. "I thought that was well established."

"The Head Boy is supposed to help the teachers, Gerald," Harry hastily interrupted, sensing Seamus was about to really erupt. Harry turned to Seamus and shook his head slightly and Seamus subsided. Professor Flitwick cleared his throat and squeaked Marjorie's name again. This time the girl made it to the Sorting Hat without incident and the Hat bellowed 'GRYFFINDOR!' almost immediately.

"What?" gasped Othello loudly. "She's never brave!" Marjorie halted on her way to the Gryffindor table before continuing and sitting at the very end, turning away haughtily from the scowling boys.

The Sorting continued with another four girls into Gryffindor and two Slytherin boys, then Dexter was the only one left. He scampered up to the stool, Bartholomew clutched in one hand and cramming the Hat on his head with the other. The Hat fell right over the boy's eyes and he looked extremely comical sitting on the edge of the stool, his legs dangling, his face almost entirely hidden. Bartholomew the toad let out a loud croak as the Hat deliberated over Dexter. His friends looked tense as they watched anxiously, the Hat taking it's time.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat shouted eventually and Harry saw Othello and Hamish slump in relief. Dexter hopped off the stool triumphantly and pulled the Hat off his head.

"Yes!" he cried and practically ran over to the Gryffindor table, Bartholomew swinging precariously from one hand. The four first year boys high-fived and back slapped each other heartily as Professor McGonagall arose and tapped her goblet to gain everyone's attention. Dexter was still hopping about next to Harry who reached over and pushed him into a seat.

"To those of you, for whom this is your first night with us, welcome," Professor McGonagall said. "To the rest, welcome back." She was looking right at Harry and Hermione when she said this, her eyes sparkling suspiciously and Harry blinked to prevent his own tears from falling. The tables suddenly blossomed with food and the first years gasped in amazement. Gerald Chumley looked entirely unsettled.

"This is so cool," breathed Gilbert reaching for a drumstick and some mashed potatoes at the same time. He stopped dead when a ghostly, silvery heard shot up through his plate and he dropped the drumstick with a squawk.

"Good evening!" boomed Sir Nicholas. "And welcome to Gryffindor!"

"W-who are you?" stammered Gilbert.

"Don't you know anything?" Marjorie Smith asked with a superior look. "That's Sir Nicholas, the Gryffindor House Ghost."

"Nearly Headless Nick?" asked Dexter, his mouth falling open. He turned triumphantly to Hamish and Othello. "I told you he was real!"

"Cool," breathed Gilbert, watching Sir Nicholas avidly. "This place is so cool." Gerald sniffed and turned to his mashed potatoes.

Harry could only agree with Gilbert. Hogwarts was cool and he was glad he'd come. He piled his plate high and began eating; listening with half an ear to Seamus' far-fetched stories of his summer in Ireland with his Great Uncle Patrick. Harry let the hum of the Great Hall wash over him as he ate. The familiar sights and sounds soothed his soul and he felt at ease despite the fact that the Ghosts kept startling Gerald and making two of the new first year girls scream.

"Peeves!" shouted Harry eventually after the fifth time the poltergeist had swooped past the Gryffindor table and pelted the students with bread rolls. "Stop it!" Peeves turned around, a bread roll held aloft over Neville's head. He stared at Harry for a moment before saluting and, lowering the bread roll, soared up and through the wall at the end of the Great Hall.

The main course vanished from the tables and delicious looking cakes, tarts and jellies took the place of the roast meats, vegetables and gravies. Harry reached for a piece of treacle tart, laughing with Seamus over a particularly amusing story involving Great Aunt Erin, a clothes peg and a pat of butter.

"I mean I never liked visiting them as a kid," said Seamus wiping away tears of laughter. "But everything is just … better now and things are sort of funnier." He sobered and he looked up at Harry solemnly.

"It's like a huge Patronus," said Dean. "It's like a huge Patronus has just wiped away all the darkness that was hanging over everything." Harry didn't know what to say and he just took a bite of treacle tart, swallowing reflexively. He knew they were talking about the end of the war and that they were trying to say it was because of him but he didn't know how to acknowledge it or talk about it.

"Not all of it," said Ginny quietly. Harry turned to look at her questioningly but she put her head down and began playing with the chocolate cake on her plate. Seamus and Dean went on to rib Neville about Luna but Harry's mind whirled, his thoughts on Ginny. She did not seem all right but it would have to wait because the Welcoming Feast in the Great Hall on the first night of school definitely wasn't the place to find out what was bothering her.

"Luna's definitely good fun," Dean was saying when he pulled his mind back to the conversation going on around him.

"Well, you need to have a bit more care than just thinking she's _fun_," snapped Hermione irritably. "Girls aren't playthings!"

"No one said that, Hermione," said Seamus, narrowing his eyes. "And it'd be a pretty poor boyfriend who thought his girlfriend_ wasn't_ fun!"

"Maybe there are other qualities in a girl," argued Hermione.

"Ron thinks you're fun," interrupted Neville. Hermione stared at him for a moment.

"What?" she asked stupidly.

"Ron does think you are fun," insisted Neville. "He also knows you are smart and kind. He's not playing with you and if he was here he'd tell us all to shut our immature mouths."

"Oh …" was all Hermione said. They were silent for a while, the pudding diminishing rapidly from the platters in front of them.

"Luna will still be fun though," Dean said eventually and he, Seamus, Neville and Hermione all burst out laughing. Harry smiled absently his thoughts still on Ginny who had cut the cake into little pieces and spread them around the plate but had not eaten any of it.

The chatter in the Great Hall was rising again when Professor McGonagall stood to address the assembled students.

"Before we head to bed there are a few very important matters to address," Professor McGonagall began. "Any students, and I do mean _any_ students going into the Forbidden Forest will find themselves in serious trouble. You will _all_ stay out of the Forbidden Forest." She fixed a frosty look on Harry as she said this and he slouched down in his seat.

"Are you capable of that, Harry?" whispered Seamus with a laugh. Harry glared at him and Seamus subsided with a smirk still gracing his features.

"Quidditch will be resuming this year," said Professor McGonagall. Perhaps she would have continued if the students had not erupted in deafening cheers.

"Only the best game ever!" shouted Hamish excitedly. Marjorie Smith was looking down her nose at them, she sniffed and turned away. The excited cheering gradually subsided, Professor McGonagall smiling patiently the entire time.

"Thank you," she said eventually when the Hall was quiet enough to continue. "If you are interested in trying out for Quidditch, please give your name to your Head of House. The team captains will advise of try-outs in due course."

"Who is our Head of House?" asked Dean, looking at Hermione.

"Professor McGonagall?" said Hermione. She sounded like she was guessing. Harry tuned out the continuing speculation over the Gryffindor Head of House and turned to Ginny who had not even smiled at the mention of Quidditch. She looked extremely pale and very unsettled.

"All right?" he whispered, squeezing her hand. Ginny plastered a fake smile on her face and nodded vigorously. Harry wasn't fooled. He pulled her hand into his own and stroked the back of it with a thumb. Ginny seemed to sag a little against him but said nothing. Harry forced his attention back to Professor McGonagall.

"- Mr Filch, our esteemed caretaker wishes me to remind you all that performing magic in the corridors is forbidden," she was saying. "A list of banned products is on the wall outside his office-"

"I bet they all say Weasley!" yelled a voice from the Ravenclaw table and the Great Hall erupted in giggles except for the small sob that escaped the girl at Harry's side. As Harry turned to her Ginny suddenly leapt up and began running.

She ran the length of the Great Hall, pushed the doors open and dashed out into the Entrance Hall before Harry had roused himself and gotten out of his seat. Silence blanketed the Hall as Harry tore after her. As he reached the doors he heard Professor McGonagall say something about new teachers but he paid no attention, instead listening intently for a clue about where Ginny had gone. The Entrance Hall was deserted. He was about to head up to Gryffindor Tower when Neville and Luna appeared by his side.

"Do you think she's up there this time?" Luna asked, her usual dreamy voice replaced by a sharp tone Harry had never heard her use before.

"Doubt it," answered Neville. "Harry's here now. Kitchens I reckon."

"What?" asked Harry.

"I found Ginny in your bed a couple times last year," answered Neville. "If it had been a bad day, she used to sneak in some time in the night and sleep in your bed." Harry said nothing, he hadn't noticed her dot being in his bed, although he conceded that he hadn't often looked for her name after she'd seemed tucked safely in bed for the night.

"So why the kitchens?" he asked Neville as the three of them turned in that direction. He felt helpless and angry with himself that he didn't know why Ginny had fled or where she had gone.

"She never said," replied Neville, "but I'm pretty sure Dobby used to feed her chocolate cake when she was feeling particularly low. She disappeared a couple of times when things got too much and we always found her in your bed or the kitchens."

"I didn't know," said Harry helplessly.

"That's okay, Harry," said Luna. "You couldn't know, you weren't here."

But Ginny was not in the kitchens. Luna headed back to her Common Room after a rather sickening display of saying goodnight to Neville and the two of them headed back to Gryffindor Tower. Neither Harry nor Neville knew the password and it took a heated argument with The Fat Lady to get through the portrait hole.

Students milled around the Common Room and the WWN was playing quietly from a set in the corner. The fire crackled merrily and the familiar armchairs and couches seemed warm and inviting. Ginny was not sitting in any of them however. Hermione came down the dormitory stairs after having shown the new girls their dormitories. She shook her head when Harry asked if she had seen Ginny there. There was no sign of Ginny in Gryffindor Tower beyond the trunk waiting for her at the end of her bed.

"Room of Requirement?" asked Neville softly. Without another word Harry and Hermione left the Common Room. The walk to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy was tense and silent until Hermione spoke.

"Why do you think she left like that?" she asked. Harry shrugged.

"I don't know," he said. "She was jittery for a while before that, too. She wouldn't tell me what was wrong."

"I expect something triggered her," Hermione shrugged as they reached the tapestry. "You weren't here; you couldn't recognise it – Oh!" She broke off, staring at the scorched tapestry and the blackened wall opposite it. Harry pushed down his annoyance at being told again that he hadn't been here.

"Do you think it still works?" he asked.

"Only one way to find out," Hermione began pacing in front of the tapestry as she spoke. The wall did not respond. It just sat there, blackened and silent. Harry tried, pacing three times while asking for the place where Ginny was.

"Of course if Ginny's not there, asking for her won't work of course," mused Hermione. She began pacing again. "I need a room to study, I need a room to study, I need a room to study." The wall remained, stoic and impossibly unmoving.

"I think it's broken," said Harry. "Well at least she's not in there if it doesn't work. How am I supposed to find her? Why would she run off like that?" He knew he sounded desperate and his voice was rising to a whine but he couldn't help it. He was consumed with worry and an underlying anger that he didn't know Ginny well enough to know where she was. A repeating mantra was lurking in the background; he'd not been there last year so he wouldn't know.

Harry and Hermione returned slowly to Gryffindor Tower. They were almost at the portrait of The Fat Lady when Hermione suddenly grabbed Harry's arm.

"How is it that we are so stupid?" she hissed and began to run. "Come on!"

"What?" yelped Harry as she dragged him along.

"The Marauder's Map!" Hermione said breathlessly. "Why haven't we been looking at the map? Where is it?" Harry gave himself a mental slap on the forehead. He'd even thought about the map earlier but it had not occurred to him to use it.

"In my trunk," he said as they both ran full tilt towards the Portrait. "Okay, let us in." He snapped at The Fat Lady. The lady in question looked him up and down and then turned her nose up at him.

"You were incredibly rude to me before," she said haughtily. "And you still don't know the password. I do not think I shall let you in at all." Harry gritted his teeth.

"Sorry about that," he said. "Dreadfully sorry; now, could we get in please?"

"Harry Potter," added Hermione.

"_What_?" Harry asked peevishly.

"No, that's the password," Hermione looked at him apologetically. Harry rolled his eyes.

"No," said The Fat Lady. "You can go in dear, but _he_ can't until he apologises for his outrageous display earlier."

"Harry Potter," Harry ground out between clenched teeth. "And I'm not apologising. If the password is Harry Potter and I'm bloody _Harry Potter_ why should I have to say it?" The Fat Lady clearly didn't think much of his apology and began screeching at him about not respecting her person and other things about honour and chivalry that he didn't really understand.

"Just let me in!" Harry shouted just as the portrait hole swung open. He scrambled through into a deathly silence.

"What was that all about?" asked Neville from the middle of the room, where he was staring at the portrait hole. The rest of the students seemed to be sitting as still and as quiet as Harry had ever seen them.

"She wouldn't let me in and we had a bit of an argument about my … behaviour before," said Harry grumpily. He started towards the boys' dormitory before he stopped and looked around at his housemates. "What's wrong with this lot?"

"We heard shouting from the other side of the portrait hole," said Seamus.

"It scared people," added Dennis Creevey.

"Not the first time someone's had an argument with her," said Harry his brows knitted together.

"Yes well, we've kind of gotten used to shouting meaning there was a Death Eater on the other side trying to get in," answered Romilda Vane quietly. Harry gazed around at the pale faces watching him. A few first years including Gilbert and Dexter sat near the fire. They looked less scared and merely mildly curious as if they did not really understand what they were supposed to be scared about. Gerald sat in a corner, scowling at the room in general.

"She used to go and get Sir Cadogan," Seamus started. "He helped her keep the Carrows out but she nearly got hexed once and McGonagall had to repair her portrait at least six times when they slashed it in frustration. We were trapped in the Common Room for three hours the last time."

"Oh …" was all Harry said. Underneath his calm exterior his frustration and anger were growing. He turned to go up to go and get the map. Harry didn't realise how tightly his nerves were strung until Jimmy Peakes spoke.

"It's okay you weren't here, you didn't know."

"Stop saying that!" Harry exploded, turning rapidly on the stairs. "Everybody stop saying that! I know I wasn't here, okay! I wasn't here; I don't know the half of it. I get it! Just stop saying it!"

"Harry …" Neville's voice trailed off into the silence

"Harry?" Harry heard Gilbert squeak as he turned to go up the stairs. "_Harry Potter_?" Harry thought Othello may have answered him but he wasn't sure and he didn't much care. He stomped up to his dorm room each thud of his feet on the steps satisfyingly loud in the echoing stairwell. He was just opening his trunk when a frantic tapping on the window drew his attention. Liberty was perched outside his dormitory window, a scrap of parchment attached to her leg.

She looked like Hedwig, perched out there on the other side of the window. Harry felt a momentary pang of loss as he opened the window and Liberty hopped inside.

"Hey girl, is that a letter for me?" Liberty had not brought Harry a letter before but she seemed to sense the importance of the job as she puffed up her feathers importantly. Harry reached out and retrieved the letter. Liberty pecked his hand affectionately before flying out the still open window. Harry unfurled the loosely scrolled letter and recognised Hagrid's untidy scrawl.

'_Harry, I found Ginny'_ was all it said. Harry snatched his invisibility cloak and the map from his trunk and without stopping to put the cloak on and with the parchment still clutched in his hand, Harry tore down the stairs and through the common room.

He heard Hermione and Neville call after him and vaguely registered Gerald say something triumphantly about Harry Potter not being six feet tall but ignored them all as he scrambled through the portrait hole. He pelted down corridors and staircases, anxious to get down to Hagrid, hoping with everything he had that Ginny was still safe with Hagrid by the time he got there.


	27. Chapter 27

**27. Fear**

Harry flew down to Hagrid's hut. The grounds were dark; he could see the Forbidden Forest lurking eerily in the distance and a shiver went through him. A light in Hagrid's hut guided him to the place where the map showed Ginny to be. Harry had raised his hand to knock when Hagrid emerged from the shadows of the Forest, startling him.

"Yer got me note then?" Hagrid whispered.

"Yeah," Harry answered, not quite sure why they were whispering.

"I don't know what Ginny were thinkin'!" rasped Hagrid exasperatedly. "Wanderin' out in the dark like that and close to the Forbidden Forest. I know the old danger's past but that Forest is forbidden for a reason!"

"She's inside now, right?" Harry asked. "And why are we whispering?"

"She told me not to tell you she were here," Hagrid looked regretfully at Harry as he gave away his secret. Harry didn't know if it was regret that Ginny hadn't wanted Harry or regret for breaking the confidence.

"But you sent Liberty anyway?" Harry asked, puzzled. He had no idea why Ginny wouldn't want to see him and it was with great difficulty that he restrained himself from bursting through the door.

"I come down after th' feast and were just putterin' about, getting' ready fer classes termorrer," explained Hagrid. "Sent Crookshanks up ter Hermione. Dora starts scratchin' the door and Liberty starts gettin' all fluttery nervous. Right odd behaviour from them two. They been fine all day.

"There were th' softest knock a' me door and Ginny wa' there. Shakin' something dreadful she were. 'Jus' wanted to see Dora' she says. I told her she were right reckless and tha' she had bes' get back to th' castle but she looked at me with them eyes o' hers …" Harry knew exactly what Hagrid meant. He was unable to resist Ginny anything if she put her mind and eyes to it.

" 'Don' send me away' she says. 'I jus' want ter see Dora.' I told 'er I'd send fer yer to take 'er back after she saw Dora and she all but begged me not to," Hagrid continued. "But she were dreadful pale and shakin' like a leaf so I told 'er I was goin' to check th' Thestrals and Liberty follered me like she knew I needed 'er. Right smart bird that." Hagrid looked rather proud as if he was personally responsible for the brilliance of Harry's owl.

"Yeah, I reckon she is," murmured Harry. He pressed a hand to the still closed door, anxious to see Ginny and hesitant about what he would find when he opened it.

"Don' tell 'er I sent fer yer," Hagrid finished in a hoarse whisper. Harry shook his head as Hagrid melted back into the shadows.

Harry pushed the door open slowly. Ginny was huddled in front of a roaring fire, shivering in spite of the warmth coming from the flames licking the sides of the fireplace. Dora, with her head on her paws and snoring softly, was curled up at Ginny's feet.

Harry considered Ginny for a moment before closing the door with a soft click. He knew, even though she didn't move a muscle; that Ginny could tell he was there. Lately the two of them always knew when the other was in the room. Harry could often smell Ginny but he had also learned to distinguish her footsteps from those of others. His physical senses seemed to seek her out. Harry had noticed recently that he was starting to turn in her direction when she entered a room and follow her around like a sunflower following the sun. He didn't mean to do it and he didn't know how he knew where she was without thinking about it. At first Harry thought it was something magical; but this was beyond incantations. It had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with love.

"Hey Ginny," Harry said as he moved into the room, shedding his robes. The slight temperature change left him shivering slightly in his shirtsleeves until he moved closer to the fireplace. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she said softly. Harry did not believe her. "I told Hagrid not to send for you."

"He didn't," protested Harry softly. Ginny snorted.

"You are a terrible liar, Harry Potter."

"So are you," whispered Harry as he reached her and slipped his arms around her from behind. They sat in silence for a few moments. It was so quiet that Harry could hear Dora breathing as she slept at Ginny's feet.

"I thought I was all right," Ginny said softly after a few moments. "And then Flitwick brought that Hat out." She stopped and Harry pulled her closer.

"What happened?" he eventually prompted her. Ginny shrugged.

"I don't … I don't really know," she said. "It was like a flashback or something; like I could see it burning on Neville's head."

"Yeah," breathed Harry. "I saw the same thing."

"But you were all right afterwards," said Ginny bitterly. "I was sort of trapped in my worst nightmare and I couldn't find a way out. I could still see everything going on around me. I knew where I was." Ginny paused and snorted softly. "That Dexter and his mates are going to cause Hermione any number of headaches." Harry chuckled, nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, together with Gilbert … should prove interesting," he said, stroking Ginny's arm absently. He waited for Ginny to continue, sensing that her experience on seeing the Hat was entirely different to his own.

"So I could see what was happening but I couldn't leave … this place, where I was," Ginny continued after a long moment. "It's kind of hard to describe. I knew I was in the Great Hall and it was the start-of-term Feast. I was even talking to people and I answered you … sort of. But my head was playing images I couldn't control. It was just ... death." Ginny trailed off and Harry wondered if she'd gone back to the place where she'd been.

He felt helpless. It had been hard coming back to Hogwarts. Harry had gotten caught up in the drama with the starting students and then on the platform with the Thestrals. Then he actually entered the Great Hall which culminated in the confrontation with Malfoy. Harry had reacclimatised himself without even realising it. He had slipped easily into silly banter with Dean and Seamus and even sorting out the first years in the wake of Dexter's toad hadn't seemed difficult or odd in any way. Beyond the brief notion that he'd seen the Hat flaming, it had been like any other school year once he'd stepped off the platform at Hogsmeade. It almost startled him that Ginny had slipped into some sort of dark place linked to the battle.

As he rubbed Ginny's arm and moved his hand to caress her neck, pulling her hair aside and bending to kiss her there, Harry realised Ginny's reaction upon returning to Hogwarts shouldn't have been a surprise. He'd seen it happen to most of the students as they had arrived and he'd seen the reaction of Gryffindor House to his altercation with the Fat Lady. He was roused from his musings when Ginny suddenly began speaking again.

"You died, you know," her tone was almost conversational. "F-Fred was dead. He died here too. He died and then V-Voldemort said you were dead. Neville had to hold me back. I was going to strangle that bastard with my bare hands. Neville grabbed me, he practically held me down; kept muttering something about a snake." Ginny wasn't shaking now, she was eerily calm.

"The Hat … it was like I was back there," Ginny said staring into the fire. "Like some bizarre halfway place between then and now. I could see you lying there just like in all my dreams. I was willing you to wake up. Just get up and … oh I don't even know. I just wanted you not to be dead. Neville was holding me back and then, he wasn't anymore and he was yelling at that … that evil … thing."

Ginny was no longer in the one-roomed hut or even at the Feast; but in the past, a few months ago. She paused and looked up as if staring at some unseen tableau, the players on it acting out a scene she never wanted to watch. When she spoke again her voice was soft, so faint that Harry had to strain to hear it.

"I think George must have grabbed me then," she said. "Maybe it was Charlie; I don't really know who it was, except that it wasn't Fred." She paused, one hand idly scratching Dora's head. The flames crackling in the grate popped and a log, finally burned through, sent up a shower of sparks as it collapsed.

"Neville said something I think. I didn't know where he went. All I could see was you," Ginny went on, the dimming fire casting a reddish glow over her. "All I could feel was my heart breaking; shattering into a million tiny, tiny pieces."

Harry buried his face in her hair as he felt her sorrow. It was tangible, swirling about the room, weaving it's tendrils about them. He breathed in her scent, remembering how she'd told him, all those weeks ago, that she'd felt such despair when Hagrid had carried his lifeless body out of the Forest. Then he had been concerned only with his own sorrows and had welcomed Ginny's soft arms and sweet kisses which had _Obliviated_ his mind for a time.

Ginny had expressed her thoughts; of course she had been sad, but Harry had heard that and accepted it without question. Her brother had just died and he had been sensitive to that. That she has sunk to despair at his apparent passing had served only to feed Harry's ego. Of course she had sorrowed over him and, it had felt grand. That such a girl loved him so much that she had mourned so deeply made him feel ten feet tall and he had kissed her to make her forget; to prove they were both still alive.

It physically hurt to realise that he had not allowed her to really express herself or acknowledged the real depth of her feelings. As Harry tightened his grip on Ginny he let his tears fall silently into her hair. She poured out her sorrow as Harry listened and realised, truly realised for the first time that while that last final, horrible battle had signalled for him, along with the trauma associated with battle and war; a beginning, a fresh start, the beginning of his life. For Ginny it had embodied all of her worst fears, every dread in her heart.

"It was straight from my nightmares," Ginny continued as she reached up to wipe away the tears from her own cheeks. "Fred was gone. You were … dead. I wasn't ever going to be whole again.

"_He_ was so arrogant, strutting around like that but I didn't even care. I didn't care about any of it, because nothing mattered anymore. There was a lump of ice in my chest where my heart used to be. I was numb. Just numb; and George … or Charlie, didn't have to hold me back anymore because I didn't want to fight anymore."

Coming back to Hogwarts had been easy for Harry. He'd missed it last year and he'd come to see McGonagall a few weeks earlier, able to drink in the repaired splendour of the castle. He'd been through some of his worst moments at Hogwarts and still the old castle reached out to him. It called to him as no other place had. For now Hogwarts was his home, his life, his refuge, but he knew it wouldn't last. Already he found himself drawn to other places. An underlying need to go to Grimmauld Place was easily pushed aside, rationalised and ignored but The Burrow was reaching out to him with tentative fingers. It brushed against the edges of his conscience, telling him he belonged. Harry didn't think it was actually The Burrow most of the time because the fingers felt like one of Ginny's caresses and he knew it was her that was calling him and one day the building wouldn't matter. Home would be wherever Ginny was.

But for Ginny who had always had a happy home and been surrounded by family who loved her, Hogwarts held none of the sanctuary Harry found there. The cracks that formed in Hogwarts' shiny exterior in her first year had been patched, their crevices covered until the places where they had been were dimmed and almost forgotten. Now they had been split open again, now it was the place she'd had to give up the greatest desire of her heart and bravely face that the man she loved, for Harry knew now that she always had; was to leave her. Harry never felt so low for breaking up with her at Dumbledore's funeral than he did now.

Then, she'd gone back there, alone, to face Death Eaters and mount a defence against the increasingly strong evils that permeated their world. Last year Hogwarts had been a place that separated her from the man she loved and her family, her haven. And finally it was the place of her deepest fears, her worst nightmares. Her brother had died here, she'd wept over his battered body in the same Great Hall in which they'd been feasting. And then her already battered and beaten heart had taken a final shattering blow when Harry had been carried from the Forest. Ginny didn't give up or cry easily; but it was no wonder that she hadn't wanted to fight anymore.

"I think when Neville stood up and refused to back down it … got through to me," Ginny continued, her voice strengthening slightly, although she shivered in the cool hut. The fire had died down and, not wanting to let her go, Harry pulled a huge, Hagrid sized blanket from a nearby chair and wrapped it around them both. He didn't know what time it was but he didn't care. The blanket pooled on the floor at their feet, the folds of the coarse wool lumpy against the smooth floor of Hagrid's hut.

"I told him before I … left, that he would have to finish it," Harry said when Ginny did not continue. Ginny was silent for a moment after he spoke.

"You knew," she said eventually, turning to face him. It wasn't a revelation; she had known since the earliest days after that battle. "You knew you weren't coming back when you passed me on the lawn."Harry drew in a deep breath. She'd sensed him. He'd known it then but hoped that she had not, that it had been a coincidence that she had turned at his passing that night. Harry nodded slowly but there was no reproach in her eyes as they searched his.

"I didn't know it was you then," said Ginny as her small fingers played with the buttons on his shirt. She was staring at some point over his left shoulder, kneeling between his thighs as she moved imperceptibly closer to him.

"But later you did?" Harry asked softly, his breath catching in his throat. Ginny nodded.

"When Hagrid said you'd gone," she said. "You'd been on the ground and then Neville … and then there was fighting … and you had just gone, vanished. I felt you and I didn't even think it meant you were alive. I don't think I even felt anything. I could just … feel you and it felt like I could do anything then."

"Is that why you took on Bellatrix?" asked Harry, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the warmth that was spreading through his chest as Ginny's fingertips loosened a button and made contact with his skin.

"I don't know if it was that or if I felt like I had nothing left to lose," admitted Ginny. Harry looked up at her. Ginny was looking down and Harry's hands were holding the blanket around their shoulders, preventing him from lifting her head with a caress.

"I'm sorry," was all he whispered. Ginny's fingers continued to play across his chest, causing his breath to hitch as she traced the scar over his heart and trailed over the place where the Killing Curse had struck him that night.

"I could feel you," Ginny whispered. "I could still feel you."

"I didn't stop because," Harry swallowed, "because I couldn't have kept going if I did. The last thing I thought of was you." Ginny raised her head then.

She moved closer to him, her hands sliding around his back. Harry's eyes slid shut as Ginny placed her lips gently over his own. Her kiss was chaste and brief, over too soon. Harry's eyes fluttered open. Unable to speak his eyes searched hers, asking why she stopped.

The coarse, scratchy wool of Hagrid's blanket rasped across the back of his hands and the small of his back where Ginny's hands had pulled the shirttails out of his trousers and explored his waist.

"I wouldn't have let you go," Ginny whispered as he hands slid up his arms. Harry didn't know when Ginny had completely unbuttoned his shirt but he knew she must have because he felt her hair tickling his chest and stomach as she bent to kiss the scar over his chest. Her voice was barely a whisper. "I had already lost Fred. I would not have lost you too.

"And then I did anyway. This place … it's filled with loss. I just … I was just remembering. Trapped in that other place and McGonagall was talking about – about banned things …" She trailed off and Harry pulled her closer as she looked up at him, her hands still resting on his shoulders. Her eyes stared into his, filled with pain.

"And then someone said Weasley," finished Harry, dropping the blanket and running his hands up her back. "And they were talking about the twins." Ginny nodded as she buried her face in his shoulder.

"I couldn't be there anymore," she murmured. "There were too many memories and they were pressing in on me." Harry turned his head to press a kiss to her hair as she shivered and he reached to wrap the blanket around them both again.

"I was worried," he said.

"I'm sorry," whispered Ginny.

"Don't be."

"I felt silly," Ginny sighed, shifting a little and settling back on her bottom, draping her legs over Harry's. "I didn't want you to have to deal with me and my silly fears and memories. You've got enough to be worrying about with yourself."

"Don't ever think that," said Harry fiercely. "Your fears and memories _are_ my worry. If you are afraid, or worried, or scared, that's my biggest worry, no matter what else is going on. I fought an entire war so that I can have the privilege of worrying about you." Ginny looked at Harry solemnly.

"And to hope with you," Harry added softly, tucking a stand of hair behind her ear and caressing her face. "Dream with you, be with you. I want to be with you Ginny, always. I want to share your worries and your fears." Ginny's hands slid up his chest, pushing his shirt from his shoulders and down his arms. Her small fingers raked their way across his shoulders under the scratchy blanket.

"Well, Harry Potter," she said slyly, a hint of mischief in her voice. "Your shoulders do seem broader than they once were. Do you think they are strong enough to bear my burdens as well as your own?" Harry looked at her seriously.

"Let me," he pleased. "Please don't shield me." Ginny nodded her head.

"Okay," she said softly. "I think maybe I could face almost anything with you."

She kissed him then, finishing the promise she had started minutes ago with that brief, chaste kiss. This kiss was anything but chaste. Her lips played forcefully over his own and her tongue stroked insistently at his lips until he parted them and it tangled with his own as his fingers tangled in her hair. Harry pressed her to the ground, trapping the blanket under them as they lay there exploring with tongues and fingertips. Ginny's nimble fingers pushed insistently at Harry's shirt until he wriggled out of it completely, discarding it somewhere on Hagrid's floor.

**********************

Harry couldn't feel his legs. As he struggled his way to consciousness from the depths of sleep he realised it was not sinister that he was unable to feel his lower limbs. Something that was obviously hair tickled his nose and a small hand rested on his bare chest. The owner of the hair and hand was pinning down his left leg and a warm fuzzy lump was weighing down his right. He was not surprised to find his left hand resting on a soft curve. Ginny's breath ghosted across his neck. The fire was now just glowing coals in the grate and his right foot was beginning to tingle. The sky outside the window was still dark, twinkling with numberless stars. Harry heard a loud snore from the corner of the one roomed hut and a sort of wet snuffling sound from nearby.

"Ginny!" he hissed urgently, "Ginny, wake up!"

"No, go 'way," she mumbled into his chest.

"Wake _up_!" Harry insisted, trying to shrug off the blanket in which they were cocooned. "We are so dead!"

"No, no one's died," murmured Ginny, burrowing further into the massive blanket.

"Hagrid's in here!" Harry poked Ginny sharply in the ribs as Hagrid punctuated his words with a rumbling snore. Ginny's eyes shot open and she sat up abruptly.

"What's the time?" she whispered frantically.

"Um, it's still dark," Harry whispered back. Ginny grabbed his wrist and checked his watch in the semi dark.

"It's four in the morning!" she moaned. "We fell asleep!"

"Oh, you think?" asked Harry sarcastically, pushing Dora off his leg and scrambling out of the blanket.

"We need to get back," said Ginny, scrabbling around in the blanket for her robes which Harry knew were tangled somewhere in the blanket. "Before they know we're not there."

"Oh," said Harry grimly. "I think Hermione and Neville will be aware of that." Ginny looked stricken. Harry smiled at her and pulled his Invisibility Cloak out. A slow grin spread across Ginny's features as Harry swirled the cloak around them both and, saying a whispered goodbye to Dora they stole out of Hagrid's hut, one of his snores covering the loud click of the door as they stepped out into the darkness.

The trip to Gryffindor Tower was uneventful; Harry and Ginny didn't even run into Mrs Norris. It wasn't until they stood in front of the Fat Lady that they ran into difficulties. She was snoozing softly in her frame, her painted headdress looking as though it would fall down over her face at any moment.

"I got cross at her before," Harry whispered under the cloak. "She might not let me in and she'll definitely be angry if I wake her." Ginny nodded.

"Well, you'll have to tell me! I don't know the password," she hissed eventually.

"Harry Potter," came a stern voice from behind them. Harry felt Ginny freeze as he stiffened. Professor McGonagall swept past, missing them by inches as the Fat Lady woke with a start and swung open sleepily.

"Don' know what you're playin' at," she grumbled. "In and out like a train station all night." The portrait swung shut behind the professor and Ginny turned to Harry.

"I thought she saw us!"

"No, that's the password," Harry grimaced. Ginny smirked and Harry rolled his eyes at her. "Well we can't go in now. What are we going to do?" Before Ginny could answer the portrait swung open again and Hermione and Neville came scrambling out. To Harry's surprise, Ron was behind them.

"What do you mean you didn't know, Hermione?" he was saying. "I thought you knew everything about Hogwarts?"

"Well obviously not, Ron," snapped Hermione.

"It should have been obvious," murmured Neville.

"Quite, Mr Longbottom," said Professor McGonagall crisply from behind them all. "The staff of Hogwarts does not take kindly to intruders. Such measures were put into place by Professor Snape a year ago."

"Bit late by then wasn't it?" muttered Ron grimly.

"Mr Weasley," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "You are skating on extremely thin ice. I suggest you do not push your luck. Follow me, all of you. I also want to know what you two were doing out of bed at this hour of the night." She indicated Hermione and Neville as she spoke and turned in the direction of the Headmistresses office. Ron, Hermione and Neville began to follow her. Harry held his breath as the four of them approached. He had no idea what Ron was doing at Hogwarts or how he got into Gryffindor Tower but to find out meant following them. Harry was fairly sure discovery outside his common room at four in the morning, even for the Head Boy, would be frowned upon.

He and Ginny stood as still as statues as Professor McGonagall swept past followed by their three friends. Suddenly Ron stopped. Glancing quickly at Professor McGonagall, he tilted his head to where Harry and Ginny were standing.

"You two are going to pay for this," he whispered. "Get inside _right now_. I'll talk to you later, Harry." Ron and Hermione both hastened after Neville.

"How did he …" Ginny trailed off and Harry shook his head. He stared after Ron and Hermione as they rounded the corner, Ron giving one last jerk with his thumb before disappearing from view.

"Harry Potter," Ginny hissed at the Fat Lady who only grunted sleepily and swung open. The two of them clambered through the portrait hole and pulled the cloak off. Ginny headed straight for the stairs to the girls' dorms but Harry caught her hand. Ginny turned to him questioningly.

"I love you," Harry said and he kissed her softly. Ginny blushed a little and gave him a smile before she squeezed his hand and pulling away, stepped lightly up the staircase.

Harry hurried up the stairs to his room where Seamus and Dean slumbered. Storing his cloak in his trunk he hastily donned his pyjamas and fell into bed. He was asleep in minutes.

*********************

When Harry woke the next morning the sun was shining weakly through the windows of his dormitory. He squinted at his surroundings before feeling for his glasses and looking around. The room was empty; Neville's four-poster looked untouched as though he had not slept there. Dean's bed was a mess of sheets and blankets, a set of robes crumpled on the pillow. A large book was sighing intermittently from Seamus's nightstand.

Harry's eyes drifted to the bed where Ron usually slept. A tie was looped around one post and a Puddlemere United poster was spellotaped above the bed. As he swung his protesting legs out of bed Harry wondered who was sleeping there. An extra bed has been squeezed in between Neville and Dean and the trunk at the end of that one said FRJ printed on it in garish orange paint. The dorm should have looked cramped with the extra bed in there but it didn't seem to be. Harry crossed the room to visit the bathroom.

"Probably magically expanded," he muttered to the deserted bathroom. When he had finished Harry wandered back to the deserted dorm, stretching as he went. He was stiff from falling asleep on Hagrid's floor. He recalled how Ginny had looked in the firelight and smiled dreamily as he checked his watch.

It was after half past eight.

With a muttered oath he scrambled to find his robes, muttering a charm to remove the creases. Harry pawed frantically through his trunk for clean socks, searched under his bed for his errant tie as he was trying to do up his fly and shoved his feet into his shoes as he shrugged himself into a clean shirt. Harry paused in front of the mirror, scowled at his hair and then, ignoring it, he slammed out of the dorm and thundered down the stairs and across the deserted common room.

Harry took every secret passage and hidden stairway he knew to get down to the Great Hall but he was still out of breath when he got there. He pushed the doors open slowly and shuffled inside quietly. He could see the teachers handing out class schedules and his eyes went automatically to the Gryffindor table where he was surprised to see the motherly woman he'd seen the night before handing out timetables to the first years.

There was a spare seat next to Ginny and Harry smiled to himself as he made a beeline for her. He was halfway to the seat when he realised Ron was sitting opposite her, next to Hermione, and laughing with Dean and Seamus. Dropping into the spare seat he pressed a kiss to Ginny's cheek.

"Morning," he murmured before shooting a glance at Ron.

"Good morning sleeping beauty," Ron grinned at him.

"What're you doing here?" Harry blurted. Ron shrugged.

"By the time McGonagall finished with me it was practically breakfast time," he said through a mouthful of eggs. "She said I may as well stay and have breakfast and see the girl I came to see."

"But didn't you see Hermione last night?" asked Harry in a low voice as he piled his plate with bacon.

"I came to see Ginny," Ron said quietly.

Harry looked up startled at the tone in Ron's voice. He sounded distinctly unfriendly. Harry gazed at Ron, perplexed, but Ron wasn't looking at him, he was shooting daggers at Ginny who was staring back at him defiantly. Harry flicked a questioning look at Hermione but she was studiously avoiding his gaze, staring at her plate. Seamus continued his raucous story about six of his cousins, four trees and a goat while Harry checked Neville and Dean for any explanation of Ron's attitude. Dean shook his head and Neville shrugged. Harry opened his mouth to demand an explanation when someone else spoke.

"Right, who do we have here then, seventh years? You look like seventh years, I must say. Seventh years … seventh years … I've got your timetables here somewhere. I do declare I am quite the dither this morning and I daresay you all know better than I how this works. I haven't been back here in so long, quite forgotten how it all works!" The motherly looking witch was shuffling through an armful of parchment as she spoke.

"It's looking rather spiffing though isn't it? Nice and shiny. I think these are new tables actually. It never looked so good when I was here you know. We etched our names into the tables and so on, as children do you know. I remember I was quit taken with this one boy …" she trailed off as if lost somewhere in the past. Harry exchanged an amused look with Seamus.

"I'm sorry, but do you have our timetables?" asked Hermione before the woman could begin reminiscing further.

"What?" the witch started, her midnight blue hat wobbling as she looked up at Hermione. "Oh! Oh of course dear, I don't know where my mind was at. Not at all sure what I was thinking for a moment there. Not a terribly good way to make a first impression is it? Never mind I'm sure we'll have quite a bit of time to get to know one another." She pulled a parchment out with a flourish and squinted at it thoughtfully.

"Ginevra?" she asked, waving the parchment briskly and then handed it to Ginny when she timidly raised her hand. "Here you are dear. Quite the packed timetable I see. Still, I'm sure you'll do just fine." The witch continued to pull pieces of parchment randomly from her pile and hand them out to the students.

"Muggle Studies?" frowned Ginny, scanning her timetable. "I don't do Muggle Studies."

"Oh!" The witch stopped abruptly, several pieces of parchment floating to the floor. She drew her brows together and peered at Ginny; her head tilted. Harry was starting to wonder if the woman needed glasses. "You must be a pureblood or a half-blood then dear. Everyone has to do Muggle Studies except for the Muggleborns."

"Why?" asked Dean as he picked up his timetable and looked at it carefully.

"Well, to combat the absolute rubbish you all learnt last year of course!" She suddenly looked quite commanding. The pudgy, breathless woman had been replaced with a strict disciplinarian who managed to sustain an aura of calm serenity. "Classes are a bit crowded mind, so Muggleborns aren't in the classes. They know all about the Muggle world of course, having grown up there so there's not room for them. We do the best we can." She beamed at Dean and then waved a piece of parchment in the air, turning back into the motherly figure in the blink of an eye.

"Do we have a Hermione Granger?" she paused, squinting slightly as Hermione took the parchment eagerly. "Now, I have seen you before dear, I just know it. Oh I'm sure it will come to me."

"I'm sorry," interrupted Neville. "I didn't catch your name."

"Oh of course dear, such a lot to take in isn't it. I'm Ethel Crockwell, Minerva's asked me to be the Gryffindor Head of House, isn't that exciting? We shall get along famously I am sure. I was in Gryffindor of course you know, in my day."

Ethel suddenly dropped the pile of parchment she was still carrying and Neville and Harry dived to the floor to gather them up for her.

"Professor Crockwell, would you like some help?" Hermione offered. The professor looked at her with gratitude etched on her features and handed her a pile of parchment.

"Oh, would you? And I don't suppose you've seen the Quidditch Captain have you dear? I have a message for him somewhere ..." she trailed off, patting her pockets absently and dropping the rest of her papers. Harry tried hard to stifle his laughter. This woman was a slightly dotty cross between Trelawney and Mrs Weasley but he was quite amused. Neville sighed as more parchment rained down on his head and began gathering them to add to the pile already in his hands.

"That's me," Harry eventually managed to say, just as Professor Crockwell pulled a rolled parchment from one of her pockets.

"Wonderful, wonderful," muttered the professor absently as she handed him the scroll and took the stack of parchment Neville offered her. "Need to organise try outs and things. I don't know anything about Quidditch you know, never played it myself. Where's Neville Longbottom?"

Neville held out his hand with a smile and Professor Crockwell handed him a parchment and Professor Crockwell wandered off muttering about her days at Hogwarts and calling names randomly from the teetering and crumpled pile of parchment in her arms. Hermione handed Harry his timetable and continued down the table handing out timetables to the other students. Harry looked at his timetable. Ron continued eating his eggs, quite unmoved by the ruckus caused by the new professor.

"Do you suppose she's the Muggle Studies teacher then?" asked Ginny, still frowning at her timetable.

"Yeah, she is. McGonagall announced that at the Feast last night," Seamus said as he poured himself some pumpkin juice.

"We've got new Transfiguration and Defence teachers too," added Dean. "

"Oh, I um, missed that part," Ginny muttered sheepishly.

"Yes, you did," growled Ron menacingly. Harry stared at Ron who had resumed glaring at Ginny. He once again opened his mouth to find out what was going on when a small voice came from behind him.

"Um, Mr Potter?" it said timidly. Seamus and Dean snorted and Neville let out a chuckle. Harry turned around to find Gilbert standing there, twisting his hands nervously and shuffling from one foot to the other.

"It's just Harry," he said, smiling, hoping to reassure the timid boy. Gilbert opened and closed his mouth several times and turned a brilliant shade of red. Harry sighed. Gilbert had been able to talk to him fine before he knew who he was. He had no idea how to put the child at ease. He was rescued from his dilemma by Dexter who came bounding up to them.

"Don't worry about that big git," he said, bouncing on his toes, Bartholomew swinging from one hand. "Just ignore him, he's an awful sourpuss. "

"But he's my brother," wailed Gilbert suddenly, turning to Dexter. "And he's supposed to help me and he is just ignoring me and I don't know anybody else! The only person I even met here who's older than me is Mr Potter and, well he's _Harry Potter_ isn't he? Gerald is supposed to take care of me!"

"I'm sure he doesn't mean to ignore you," interjected Ginny. She smiled at Gilbert encouragingly. "Big brothers just get crazy sometimes." Her words were charged but Harry didn't know exactly why. He could practically feel Ron stiffen behind him.

"I need to send a letter to mum," whispered Gilbert, gazing at Harry. "Gerald won't give me any parchment and mine got all wet because I was carrying it in my pocket and I sort of got too close to the lake but it's drying now, so it'll be all right in the end but I can't write on it yet though and all I've got is a pot of green ink, I've lost my blue ink and I think I left my Transfiguration book at home and so I need to ask mum to send it to me but Gerald told me not to bother her because it's my own fault I left the book at home and he won't give me any parchment and now he's ignoring me and he wouldn't let me write on the bottom of his letter and then he went to find an owl without me and I think he's sulking because he thought you weren't really real you know and he is probably embarrassed I know that now but I just don't even know what I can write on and how to get an owl because I was supposed to send my letter with Gerald and he told me last night me he would get the owl this morning for our letters and I didn't need to worry about it and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Harry held up his hand. Gilbert had not taken a breath. The boy stopped short breathing heavily.

"And I didn't know who else to ask," Gilbert finished, looking down.

"That's okay," said Harry, smiling at the boy and winking at Dexter. "It's exactly the sort of thing you can bring to the Head Boy. Of course Hermione's more likely to have parchment and ink but why don't we write your mum a letter and take a walk to the Owlery before classes?" Gilbert brightened and looked up at Harry.

"Really? Gerald said I was an idiot for bothering you with it. He said you wouldn't care about me at all and I would just be in the way," Gilbert said.

"Lots of people misjudge Harry like that," muttered Ginny. Her words were loaded with double meaning, Harry could tell, but he gave up trying to figure out what message Ginny was trying to send Ron and turned to Neville.

"Got any ink and a bit of parchment?" Neville scrabbled about in his bag for a moment before Luna appeared, or possibly floated up to them, and handed Gilbert a piece of parchment and a self inking quill.

"Here you are," she said. Gilbert stammered a thanks and Dexter offered him his back to write on while Luna floated over to Neville and sat boldly on his lap. Neville began blushing hard enough to rival a Weasley and Seamus and Dean snickered.

"Good morning Ronald," Luna said dreamily. "I did not think you were coming to Hogwarts this year. Hermione seemed very distraught about it all you know. You really should go and put your school robes on. Not that those aren't lovely but I didn't think Professor McGonagall would allow magenta robes in classes."

"Oh well these are my work robes. I didn't have a chance to get changed and I'm not staying," Ron protested. He turned to look at Ginny with a hard glint in his eyes. "I just came to sort someone out." Luna pecked Neville on the cheek and stood up.

"Well I need to get to History of Magic and get the seat closest to the Nurgarblefligs before anyone else sits there. Do go easy on Ginny, won't you Ronald," she said as she drifted away. "Last year wasn't a picnic for any of us." Ron glared at her as she walked away. Ginny looked smug. Harry had no idea what was going on but he was going to find out right now. He started to open his mouth.

"I finished the letter," piped up Gilbert. "Can we go to the Owlery before class Mr Potter?" Harry sighed and turned away from Ron. He was surprised neither Ron nor Ginny were dead; the looks they were giving each other could surely kill. Harry plastered a smile on his face.

"Sure Gilbert, maybe we can find our owl. She doesn't get a lot of post to deliver," he said as he squeezed Ginny's shoulder. "I'll see you in Potions." Ginny smiled up at him and he felt quite warm as he basked in her beaming smile.

"Sure, Harry, I'll see if I can save you a seat," she said mischievously. Harry looked at Ron, trying to convey that he wanted a word with him, as Gilbert tugged on his sleeve. Ron just looked away.

"I'll see you later Ron," was all he said and turned to follow Gilbert who had brightened considerably and was practically bouncing out of the Great Hall.

"What sort of owl do you have Mr Potter? I always liked owls you know, they seem very wise. Even before I knew they carried post you know I always liked them. I bet your owl is special just like you. I can't wait to meet him. Is it a him? Maybe you've got a girl owl. She's probably a grand bird. How long have you had her? Is it a her? Maybe you can't tell with owls …" Harry let the boy keep talking as they left ignoring Seamus and Dean calling out '_Goodbye Mr Potter!_' and almost all the Ravenclaws who were staring at Gilbert and his monologue in what could only be described as horror.

Gilbert chattered all the way to the Owlery. He seemed to move effortlessly from a discourse on owls (Gilbert wanted an owl, probably a black one), to a recount of his trip across the lake the night before (he'd almost toppled out of his boat and it was probably a miracle he was still alive). Arriving at the Owlery it didn't take any time at all to locate Liberty as she swooped down and landed on Harry's shoulder almost immediately, nipping him on the ear. Gilbert was utterly enamoured with the snowy owl and fussed over her extensively while Harry tied the letter to her leg. Before she flew off Liberty pecked Harry lightly on the hand as if to ask him why he never fussed over her like that. Harry felt vaguely guilty as the owl flew off but he pushed the feeling aside as he tried to focus on Gilbert's new monologue.

All the way back to the castle Gilbert treated Harry to his opinion of the castle in the daylight (it was the largest building he had ever seen), which led to a summary of his trip to London three years before where he'd seen many large buildings and Gerald hadn't had a very good time because they'd run into three ghosts in the Tower of London.

"We're not used to ghosts but dad -" here the boy faltered. "Dad told us it was okay. I really liked them. I'm not sure Gerald likes being a wizard, you know. He didn't want to come to Hogwarts but mum told me that dad would want this." Gilbert paused and stopped walking for a moment. "She loves my dad. I think she misses him heaps. She's pretty sure he's dead. She didn't say that to us, but she thinks it. I can tell.

"Gerald got cranky cause he has to do Muggle Studies y'know. He thinks he knows all about Muggles but I bet he doesn't. Mum's a Muggle but we did lots of wizard stuff too. Dad charmed lots of the kitchen things and since he's been gone Auntie Gloria comes over and makes sure the charms are still working. Mum doesn't have to wash the dishes. She hates washing dishes." Gilbert took a breath and climbed the steps to the Entrance Hall.

"But Gerald has to do Muggle Studies anyway, that teacher told him so. Says we're half-blood so we have to. She was saying normally I wouldn't be doing it until third year but those Ministry people made up so many lies that we need the truth. One of the girls is Muggleborn and she got cross 'cause she can't do it. I don't know why you'd want to if you've grown up with Muggles. I mean wouldn't you already know heaps about Muggles? You'd know the truth wouldn't you and you wouldn't believe any lies. Oh! I've got to go to Transfiguration! Thanks Mr Potter!" Gilbert dashed off, calling out to a group of first years who were heading out of the Entrance Hall.

As Harry watched Gilbert go he pondered what the boy had said. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something the boy said was niggling at him. His musings were interrupted by raised voices just outside the Entrance Hall on the Grand Staircase. As he came around the last corner onto the staircase he could see who it was.

"Ron, just let it go," pleaded Neville. Harry rounded the corner to see Neville standing, arms outstretched, between Ron and Ginny as if keeping them from pulling their wands on each other. Hermione had a restraining hand on Ron's arm and Dean was actually holding Ginny back.

"No, it's not good enough," insisted Ron. "You can't keep doing this!" If Ron had been about to say something else it was impossible to tell because at that moment Slughorn's voice boomed genially through the corridor.

"Good morning, good morning seventh years! Let's go to Potions!" The man seemed entirely oblivious to the battle erupting on the Grand Staircase. Ginny shook Dean off and glared at Ron icily.

"Sorry Ron," she spat sarcastically. "I have to go now. Terribly sorry I can't stay and listen to your _concerns_. I've somewhere to be."

"This is not over, Ginny," Ron called out as she swept past him and down towards the dungeons. "Don't think I've finished."

"Ron, just drop it," pleaded Hermione.

"What on earth-" began Harry but he got no further because Slughorn waddled over to him, beaming and clapping his hands together once, loudly.

"Harry! Harry, my boy. How wonderful to see you!" he boomed. "It's such a pleasure and an honour to have you in our class. Now, Harry, dear boy, allow me to impress upon you the importance of your dedication in this class." Harry tuned out Slughorn's waffle about Aurors, Potions results and protection of the people and turned to Ron but his best mate was rapidly vanishing up the Grand Staircase. The rest of his classmates melted away to their first class and Slughorn slung an arm around Harry's shoulders while he was distracted. They made their way down to the dungeons and into the Potions classroom, Slughorn droning the whole time about how valuable his Potions classes were going to be.

Slughorn dragged Harry all the way to the front of the class before loosening his grip and slapping Harry on the back, sent him on his way. The rest of the class had filed in behind them and Harry sighed heavily. Hermione had sat down next to Ginny, the two of them whispering furiously. There was a mix of people from his year and from Ginny's and the only seat free was next to Draco Malfoy.

Hermione looked at Harry apologetically but he just glowered at her as he made his way to the spare seat. He was increasingly frustrated with the evident disagreement between Ron and Ginny and his own inability to find out what the problem was, let alone help resolve it. He sat heavily in his seat and gazed at Ginny who had her head down and was scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. He sighed loudly and realised he didn't have his bag with him, or his books, or his Potions equipment.

It was turning out to be a very bad day.


	28. Chapter 28

**28. Fight**

The day did not get any better for Harry Potter.

Slughorn assigned them to work with the person next to them for the next eight weeks. They had to brew a complicated potion and write a joint essay on the experience. Harry nearly groaned aloud. Malfoy actually did. When Potions was finally over Harry had to endure a ranting Hermione who was livid that she was not permitted to do Muggle Studies.

"I don't know what they think they are playing at," she grumbled as she gathered her books up and shoved them ruthlessly into her bag.

"I'm going to find an owl," muttered Ginny. She had a folded parchment in her hands and stomped out of the classroom before Harry could even say anything.

"Listen Hermione, what's wrong with Ginny?"

"Trouble in paradise Potter?" asked Malfoy sardonically.

"Shut up Malfoy."

"I mean, how can they decide, _just like that_ based on bloodlines who does and doesn't take a subject?" Hermione continued as if she had not heard Harry at all. "That's not equality, it's not even sensible, is it?" She looked up and pierced Malfoy with a glare. He looked startled at apparently being expected to be on the same side as Hermione Granger. He regained his equilibrium quickly and his indifferent sneer fell back into place.

"I really wouldn't know," he drawled lazily. "I'm not particularly thrilled at taking it myself but I have to apparently." Hermione nodded emphatically, brandishing a quill in his face for emphasis as she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder. Malfoy took a step back and eyed Hermione and her quill suspiciously. Hermione appeared about to say something to Malfoy but perhaps she remembered they were still enemies because she turned to Harry suddenly.

"Harry!" she demanded sharply. "How do you feel about having to take Muggle Studies?"

"I hadn't actually given it a lot of thought, Hermione," Harry sighed wearily as he followed her out of the classroom. "I've been a bit preoccupied. I need to go and get my bag; I'll see you later." Harry turned to go up to his dormitory leaving Hermione still railing about injustices while managing to bring up House Elf rights. Malfoy was trying to edge away but Hermione kept talking.

Harry had to do some smooth talking to convince the Fat Lady to let him into Gryffindor Tower. He flew up the dormitory stairs, dug his book bag out of his trunk, gathered together a mess of quills, ink and parchment and grabbed his text book, '_The Magic of Muggles_', before finally racing out of the dormitory and through the common room. The Fat Lady yelled at him to mind his manners when he slammed the portrait into the wall on his way out.

By the time Harry skidded into the Muggle Studies classroom he was more than ten minutes late and breathing heavily. Ethel Crockwell was standing in the middle of the room; a pair of spectacles perched on her head, dressed in a ridiculous pink cardigan with bobbles on it. For a moment Harry was reminded horribly of Umbridge. She smiled at him and beckoned him into the room.

"Hurry up then," she said. "Now which side of the room are you on?"

"Pardon?"

"Which side of the room, er, Mister …?" The entire class broke out in giggles. Harry looked at the woman exasperatedly. He wasn't used to having to introduce himself and while it was a novel idea, he wasn't in the mood today.

"Which side is which, then I can tell you where I belong," he said instead. Professor Crockwell waved her hand vaguely to the right as she walked to her desk.

"Pureblood over there," she said, reaching the desk and picking up a quill and waving it to the left. "Half-blood over here." Harry just stood there.

"I beg your pardon?"

"If you're not sure dear I can find out for you," she said, smiling. "Now, let's mark you off the roll."

"Oh I'm half-blood," Harry spat. "But why are we being separated into pure and half-blood?"

"So I can see how much you know dear," the professor said patiently. "Now can I please mark you off the roll?"

"No, you may not," said Harry in carefully measured tones. What Gilbert had been saying finally fell into place. "I am in this class because I am a half-blood, correct?" Professor Crockwell nodded slowly. It was evident she was not sure exactly what to make of this defiant young man.

"Yes," she said, drawing herself up into lecture mode. "Anyone who is not a Muggleborn is required to take this class to make up for the filthy untruths spread by that ghastly Ministry last year. I'm not sure how much you understood of the fuss at the Ministry what with _You-Know-Who_ and all last year, dear, but it was nasty business, nasty business indeed."

"Quite," Harry muttered dryly as the class burst into a fresh round of giggles. Harry caught sight of Draco Malfoy simply staring at the woman in horror.

"Now I really do need to find my glasses," she muttered. "Haven't had them all morning, been quite the ordeal. Has anybody seen them?" As soon as Susan Bones pointed them out to her, Professor Crockwell shook her head and plucked them from their perch. She began polishing them vigorously on the hem of her cardigan. Harry remained standing defiantly in the middle of the floor.

"Really young man, if you could just take a seat please, so we may continue …" Professor Crockwell trailed off as she adjusted her glasses on her nose and looked up at him.

"And why do you think our bloodline has anything to do with how much we know about Muggles?" was all Harry said as Professor Crockwell stood there speechless. "I understand plenty about the nasty business at the Ministry last year, Professor, and I'm beginning to wonder if we even learned anything."

"Well we need to start somewhere Mr P-Potter," said Professor Crockwell rather weakly.

"Wouldn't it be best to get to know each of us individually then?" Harry challenged. "And shouldn't Muggleborn students be in here too? They have a perspective you can rarely get from children who grew up in wizarding families."

"Yes, well it was a little hard to-"

"There really aren't that many Muggleborns," said Harry harshly. "Somehow that segment of the population has diminished lately." The class had stopped giggling and were watching Harry nervously.

"The Board only approved-"

"Nothing has changed," said Harry coldly. "You're still dividing people up based on their bloodlines!"

"You have to admit, Mr Potter, that those who know _nothing_ about Muggles will be pureblood and half-bloods will have only a few antiquated ideas," the professor seemed to have recovered her composure and was trying to get her class back on track.

"And you, I suppose, are the _expert_," asked Harry sarcastically. Professor Crockwell drew herself up to her full height.

"I have a lot of experience with Muggles," she said proudly. "In fact I was chosen for this position because no one else has more understanding of Muggles except Arthur Weasley and he's a little busy right now."

"You've just contradicted yourself, Professor. Arthur Weasley's a pureblood," said Harry quietly. "You can't divide us up based on bloodline." Ethel Crockwell looked flustered.

"We need to counter the injustices of the past year," she began weakly, sounding as if she was reciting a prepared speech.

"But this is just perpetuating them," Harry stood his ground, immovable. The woman sighed, defeated.

"What would you like me to do, Mr Potter?" she gazed at him curiously as if unsure whether to chastise him or let him continue.

"Well for a start I think Seamus should go and get Hermione and Dean and Justin," said Harry. Seamus got out of his seat without being asked. "Really, can we not fit three extra students in here?"

"Four," piped up a small blonde Ravenclaw who Harry thought must have been in Ginny's year. "Ashton Grant's Muggleborn."

"Well go and get him then," said Harry, motioning to the girl. She leapt out of her seat and followed Seamus out of the room.

"Now," said Harry, "we get to know one another properly. Did you know I grew up with Muggles and may as well be Muggleborn?" Professor Crockwell sighed and sat down at her desk.

"This is so much more complicated than I thought it would be," she said wearily. "I wanted to make Charity proud of me and I've just gone and messed it up." Harry felt momentarily guilty for being so hard on the woman. She didn't seem to be causing harm intentionally. It was obvious; however, that no one had yet drawn the conclusions which Harry had.

"Nothing is messed up yet," he said. "But we can't go on like this. We've got to stop categorising people this way." Professor Crockwell nodded slowly just as Seamus burst back into the room, Dean and Justin on his heels.

"Sorry mate, couldn't find Hermione," Seamus said as the three of them filed into the room. Harry, who had a sneaking suspicion that he might know where, or rather who Hermione was with, just shrugged.

"Never mind, she can make it up in her sleep," he laughed as he followed Dean and Justin to a seat next to Neville, Luna and two other Gryffindors whom Harry recognised only vaguely. It was then that Harry noticed Ginny wasn't in the room. Frowning he scanned the room but saw only Draco Malfoy looking peeved and several students swinging on their chairs out of sheer boredom. Professor Crockwell was shuffling pieces of parchment on her desk as if organising her thoughts when the blonde Ravenclaw and her classmate wandered back in.

"If we are all here then," said Professor Crockwell, "we shall begin. Now we'll have to adjust the lesson a bit, dears, as I erm… had it set up a little differently but I am sure we shall all get along just fine." Harry smiled encouragingly at her and the class began with people explaining where they came from and the sorts of games they had played as a child.

Harry tuned them all out and set his mind to worrying about where Ginny might be. Halfway through the class, while Dean and Justin were explaining a particularly tricky move in football, Harry silently slipped out of the classroom. He wasn't sure if the teacher saw him go, nor did he care if she had.

He strode down the corridor purposefully, attempting to look as if he was meant to be exactly where he was. As soon as he came to a secluded alcove he darted inside and rummaged about in his bag for the Marauders' Map. Finding it he dropped his bag on the floor and went to get out his wand but a muffled squawk made him pause.

"Why did you two have to pick this alcove to snog in?" he asked exasperatedly, without turning around.

"Why did you have to skulk into it?" hissed Ron. "Why aren't you in class anyway?" Harry did not answer, merely got out his wand and, touching it to the parchment he activated the map and cast a _Lumos_ in order to read it. Ron and Hermione joined him looking over the map in the darkened alcove.

"Who are you looking for?" asked Hermione.

"Ginny," Harry replied grimly.

"Again?" growled Ron. "Where's she gone _this_ time?"

"If I knew that, Ron, I wouldn't be looking for her!"

"Shhhhhhhhh! Keep your voices down! None of us are supposed to be here!"

"What are they gonna do, Hermione?"

"I daresay Professor McGonagall would have something to say about the Head Boy out of class and in an alcove with the Head Girl and someone who was supposed to have left the grounds hours ago," replied Hermione waspishly.

"Admit it, you're glad I stayed," Ron said in a low voice. Hermione actually giggled. Harry, having found Ginny walking back from the Owlery, folded up the map briskly. As he stepped out of the alcove and made his way down the corridor he did not think Ron and Hermione realised he was gone.

Harry met Ginny ambling back to the castle, her shoulders hunched and her hands stuffed in her pockets. She only looked slightly startled to see him. Harry raised his eyebrows at her. She smiled at him but Harry could tell she was preoccupied.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" she asked as he reached her and stood facing her; his hands in his own pockets.

"Shouldn't you?" he countered. She shrugged.

"Had to send a letter," she replied.

"Sorry, I sent Liberty out with Gilbert's letter."

"That's okay. I used a school owl." There was a long pause. Neither said anything and neither moved.

"D'you think we'll get in trouble for skiving Muggle Studies?" asked Ginny eventually. Harry grimaced.

"I doubt the woman could tell if we were there or not. She's probably almost as batty as Trelawney," replied Harry with a smile. "Heart's in the right place. Woeful execution though."

"What did she do?" And with that they moved together towards the castle. Harry didn't even think about it or consciously decide to do it, they just did. He reached out and entwined his fingers with Ginny's as they walked back to the castle.

"Well, you know she left Muggleborns off the class lists?" Ginny nodded and Harry continued. "She tried to separate people according to bloodlines under the mistaken impression that this could tell her how much people would know."

"That's ridiculous," huffed Ginny. "Dad knows more about Muggles than your average wizard. It's got nothing to do with your bloodline." Harry shrugged.

"S'what I told her," he said as they approached the steps leading to the Entrance Hall.

"Did you really?" asked Ginny curiously. Harry shrugged again and grunted in the affirmative. Ginny laughed. "You made her restructure her class didn't you?"

"Maybe," Harry mumbled, pushing open the great oak doors.

"Brilliant!"

"What's brilliant exactly?" Ron was standing in the middle of the Entrance Hall, his arms crossed over his chest, scowling at his sister.

"Well, not you, obviously," Ginny retorted.

"You are then, are you?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I am," said Ginny, staring at her brother defiantly.

"What on earth is g-" started Harry, but Ron ignored him and began stalking towards Ginny.

"Are you?" he questioned her softly, almost menacingly. "Are you brilliant? Or are you just covering it up?"

"What are you on about, Ron?" Ginny sighed wearily.

"Someone who's _brilliant_ doesn't take off for Merlin knows where at the drop of a hat!" bellowed Ron quite suddenly.

"Oh, what's it got to do with you anyway?" spat Ginny. Harry noticed Hermione skid to a stop as she came into the Entrance Hall from the direction of the Grand Staircase. Her eyes were wide and she gasped as she covered her mouth with her hand.

"Everything, Ginny!" Ron sputtered. "Do you know what it's like to be fire-called in the middle of the night by your very worried girlfriend because your bloody sister has gone missing?"

"Well, we knew she was on school grounds-" Hermione supplied but suddenly Ginny made a vicious hissing sound at Ron.

"I didn't ask anyone to call you," she ground out. "I didn't ask for anyone to do anything."

"No! You didn't!" shouted Ron. "And that's half the bloody problem, isn't it? You're just going to keep it all bottled up inside until you explode. Have you got any idea what that does to people? You better bloody well start talking to people Ginny!"

"I do talk to people, Ron," argued Ginny. "Just cause I don't talk to _you_ doesn't mean I don't talk to people."

"Oh yeah and just which people were you talking to exactly?" asked Ron sarcastically. "Considering no one knew where you were and I had Hermione calling me in _tears_ 'cause you'd vanished and Harry was going mental, both of you missing! I'd say you're not doing a _smashing_ job of it, are you?"

"Relax, Ron, Harry found me," sighed Ginny wearily.

"Not until he'd gone half mad with worry!"

"Really, Ron, I'm fine," protested Harry indignantly. He was ignored by both Weasley siblings.

"Don't you care at all about the people who care about you?" asked Ron. "Why would you put them through this?"

"Your concern for me is overwhelming, Ron," sad Ginny sarcastically. "So really, you don't care what sort of trauma _I_ suffer as long as I don't inflict any worry on your precious friends!"

"Yes, well I'm not here am I? How am I supposed to know how they are?" asked Ron, rather too loudly in Harry's opinion.

"Is this about me or you three?" Ginny asked pointedly, "because if you guys need a moment I can leave you alone." Harry's head was whirling, trying to figure precisely what Ron was angry about. He didn't know about anyone else but _he_ needed a moment.

"Ginny-"

"Ron, really, I think you're reading a bit much into it all," interrupted Hermione.

"Well you're the one who called me, Hermione," he said without turning around.

"You didn't have to come charging through the Floo," said Hermione weakly.

"Oh I was supposed to leave you, worried out of your mind with only _Neville_ there?" Ron sounded distinctly amused until he turned around to see Ginny's wand trained on him. Harry didn't even know when she'd taken it out.

"Don't you _dare_ say Neville isn't capable of supporting anyone," Ginny hissed threateningly. "You always underestimate him."

"Oh, really and you'd know would you, Ginny?" Ron said, staring at her wand as if it were nothing more than an innocuous stick. "Get plenty of _support_ from Neville last year, did you?"

"Oh, don't be so ridiculous."

"Harry's safely out of the way so you grab whatever's going next?"Ron's eyes were wild and accusing.

"Ron," said Harry warningly, knowing just how close to the bone he was cutting. He moved to stand between the two of them but Ron just continued his hurtful accusations.

"People shouldn't just _move on_ like that because they are away from someone," he threw out. "Where's your Gryffindor loyalty?"

"Oh, where is your brain, Ron?" Ginny laughed at him, her wand never wavered. "I didn't move on from anyone. I'm not the one who's shown _that_ particular tendency. Maybe you're just worried people are going to move on from you!"

"Well, it happens!"

"Well it's not happening to you. I think you're delusional!" Ginny said, her voice quieter now. "If you think for one minute that these guys don't miss you every minute then you're stupid."

"Don't be ridiculous," retorted Ron. "Everyone always gets along fine without Ron. What about Ron, huh? Does he get along fine without everyone else?"

"Clearly not, if this little display is anything to go by," muttered Ginny. "Y'seem a bit mental to me. Maybe Ron's decided to move on, abandon his friends before they abandon him!" It was quicker than Harry had ever seen and he wasn't sure when it happened exactly, but Ron had his wand out before Harry could blink. Hermione gasped in shock.

"What the-" But before he could get a sentence out an orange spell whizzed past Ginny's left ear and Harry had a strange feeling of deja vu.

"Don't you even think that!" Ron shouted.

"Then why are you thinking it?" Ginny bellowed back. "Why would you think they would move on without you? Because that isn't who they are, is it? It's who _you are_."

It happened so quickly, there was no time to get out his wand. Cursing himself for not having it out already when standing between two people with their wands trained on each other, Harry moved to try and block Ron's spell from Ginny. Harry didn't see the spell she cast in retaliation.

In the aftermath of her hex, Harry stumbled straight into the path of Ron's Leg Locker Curse. As he fell, Harry caught the edge of Hermione's _Petrificus Totalus_ which he could only assume was her attempt to create some order out of the chaos that had erupted.

With his body frozen and falling and his hands unable to protect himself, Harry was almost grateful for the darkness that overtook him when he hit his head on the cold flagstones of the Entrance Hall as he fell. At least that oblivion provided him sweet relief from the Bat Bogeys.

*******************

A low murmuring thrummed in the background even as a loud pounding reverberated in his skull. There was a dull ache behind his eyes that warned him not to open them. As the pounding gradually slowed and receded Harry became more aware of his surroundings as new experiences began to assault his senses.

His fingers were resting on something prickly and he could smell the tang of a dozen different potions on the air. His head lay on a starched pillow and the bed he was lying on was hard and narrow. The Hospital Wing.

Harry's mouth was dry and woolly, just a hint of bitterness lingered. He swallowed reflexively, the dryness making the lump in his throat hard to shift. Harry titled his head a little and let out an involuntary groan. He brought his hands up to cradle his head when a brisk voice shrieked like a siren, making him wince.

"Ah good, you have rejoined us." Cool hands began to probe his head and Madam Pomfrey began to fire questions at him. What was his name? What was the date? Did he know where he was?

Finally she stopped her ministrations and Harry cracked an eye open to see what she was doing. A grim smile plastered on her face, Madam Pomfrey was weaving her wand in a complex pattern above his head.

"Right!" she proclaimed suddenly. "Drink this!" She thrust a beaker at him and Harry, startled by how suddenly it had appeared, drank it in one large gulp. He grimaced at the aftertaste and made a gagging sound.

There's water on the bedside table, Potter," said Madam Pomfrey briskly. "Now if you hurry you can catch most of your double Herbology lesson."

The throbbing in his head almost gone, Harry sat fully upright gingerly and straightened his glasses. Madam Pomfrey turned around.

"I don't want to see you in my hospital wing again, Mr Potter," she said. "Please _stay out of danger_!" Her hands trembled as she gathered up the potion bottles on his bedside table and Harry got the impression that the woman had been shaken by seeing him unconscious so early in the term.

"I don't do it on purpose," he muttered a little belligerently as he swung his feet over the edge of the bed. The school nurse only harrumphed. Harry reached gingerly for his shoes.

"And you might send those three outside on their way when you leave."

"Aren't you going to try and keep me here?" asked Harry cheekily. Madam Pomfrey eyed him carefully.

"I know better than to try that," she replied. "Not only would you resist such a course of action, but I think you've proven you're a bit tougher than a bump on the head. Just come straight back if you start seeing double." In a sudden and brief show of tenderness the nurse patted him gently on the knee and Harry caught the tear glistening in her eye as she turned around. He had a suspicion that Madam Pomfrey had been more upset by his mishap than she was letting on.

"Off you go, Potter," she barked on her way to her office. "Stop dilly-dallying!" Harry smiled and finished tying his shoes. He checked his wand was still in his pocket, grabbed his bag and headed to the door without a second glance. As he pushed the doors open he discovered the source of the murmuring. Hermione, Neville and Luna were leaning on the wall outside the Hospital Wing, talking quietly.

"Not like you to skive off Herbology, Neville," he said as the doors swung shut behind him. Neville looked up with a start and Hermione dropped her bag and threw herself on his neck.

"Are you all right, Harry?" she asked. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to get you! I was trying to get Ron, the great idiot. I never meant to hit you at all!"

"Don't worry about it Hermione," Harry said gently as he disengaged her arms from the chokehold they had on his neck. "But next time can you cast a _Protego_ instead?" Hermione blushed profusely.

"I'm fine," Harry assured her.

"That's good, Harry. We were ever so worried," Luna said. "You really do need to stay conscious, I think. It scares people when you lay limp and unmoving on the floor." Harry didn't quite know what to say to that so he just nodded.

"Let's get to class," said Neville, breaking the unnerving silence that fell after Luna spoke. Hermione nodded briskly and Luna turned immediately in the direction of the greenhouses.

"Not that I am not pleased to see you all, but where are Ginny and Ron?" Harry asked as Hermione gathered her bag and the four of them set off for Herbology.

"Well I'm not exactly sure," Hermione said nervously. "Professor McGonagall sent them both to her office while she levitated you to the Hospital Wing. We've not seen them since."

"We followed her," added Luna helpfully.

"Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let us in though," said Hermione quietly.

"McGonagall tried to get us to leave the Hospital Wing doors," added Neville, "for about five minutes."

"But she refused to answer Hermione's questions about Ronald and Ginevra," said Luna. "I suspect they have gotten into terrible trouble. Professor McGonagall was so cross. She was almost purple you know."

"She was," said Neville worriedly. "She took twenty points from Ginny for duelling in the Entrance Hall. She tried to take twenty from Ron as well but the counters refused to do it so she took them from you instead." Harry laughed.

"It's not funny," Hermione scolded. "Ginny's probably got detention for a week! Ron would have, too, if he was still here. Mrs Weasley will probably ground him."

"She can't do that, he's an adult," protested Harry.

"Oh, I think you'll find she can!" retorted Hermione as they pushed open the door to outside and went down the steps towards greenhouse four. "Why would you defend him? He tried to hex your girlfriend! He _did_ hex you!"

"So did you, Hermione," pointed out Harry. "So did my girlfriend. Between the three of you, I think you nearly accomplished something Voldemort never could manage." Harry laughed as he pushed open the door to the greenhouse but he was the only one. The rest of the greenhouse fell silent and Hermione went pale.

"I don't think that was very funny, Harry," said Luna matter-of-factly. "You may want to work on your jokes a little more. Maybe ask Seamus. He tells good jokes." She floated away to join a fellow Ravenclaw at one of the tables and Professor Sprout cleared her throat, motioning the three Gryffindors to a space at one of the tables and continuing her lecture on Fluttering Fireweed.

When the lesson was finally over, more than one person having been scorched by ill timed repotting, the seventh year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws clattered out of the greenhouse and back to the castle for lunch. Ginny had never turned up to Herbology but Professor Sprout was a little more astute than Professor Crockwell and Harry did not get a chance to sneak out and find her.

"Where do you suppose Ginny has been all this time?" asked Neville as they neared the castle doors. Harry shrugged.

"McGonagall must have had something to say," he muttered, shouldering open the door and stomping inside.

"Indeed I do, Mr Potter." Harry looked up, startled to see Professor McGonagall standing in the corridor as if she had been waiting for him. It was lunch time and students milled around the corridors, heading for the Great Hall, catching up with friends they had not seen in the last period.

"I'm really sorry about before," started Harry. "I know you told me no fighting and I know it looks like I was but-"

"Are you quite all right now, Potter?" the Headmistress asked him. Harry nodded. "Good, I did not fancy facing Molly Weasley's wrath if I had to Floo and tell her otherwise. Potter, if I might see you for a moment, in my office?" Harry smiled slightly and nodded. Hermione shifted anxiously.

"Professor … er, where did Ginny go?" she asked, fiddling awkwardly with the strap on her bag.

"Miss Weasely," said McGonagall softly, and not unkindly, "had some family business to attend to. She will no doubt be along presently. I trust you are ready for your class after lunch?" Harry noticed her lips twitch a little as she said it and he realised that their first Defence class was after lunch. Neville nodded enthusiastically and Luna gave a dreamy sort of sigh.

"Oh I do hope it is better than last year," she said. "Last year it wasn't very fun at all. And the teacher was quite unattractive. He just wasn't a nice person, was he Neville?" She turned her protuberant eyes to Neville expectantly.

"I am sure you will find your supervisor quite amenable, Miss Lovegood," was all Professor McGonagall said as she turned with a swish of tartan. Hermione was still twisting her bag strap worriedly when Professor McGonagall turned around suddenly. "Miss Granger, when you see him, please be sure to tell Mr Weasely that should he wish to visit in the future, the Gryffindor common room fireplace will be available every second Saturday, starting next week, _during daylight hours only_."

"Thank you, professor," said Hermione weakly.

"Come along, Potter," said McGonagall briskly, her abrupt change of tone startling all four students. "If you hurry along you'll make it back in time to eat lunch." Harry obediently fell into step behind her as she moved away.

Professor McGonagall said nothing as they made their way up to the gargoyle guarding her office. There was a dull ache making its presence felt at the base of Harry's skull and he gingerly touched the back of his head and winced. Madam Pomfrey had done an excellent job but his scalp was still tender.

"Lemon Drop," said McGonagall as she reached the gargoyle. She must have sensed Harry's surprise because she paused before stepping onto the staircase and said simply. "It gives me strength." Harry nodded as he followed her up. He could see how that worked.

Professor McGonagall pushed open the heavy doors and entered her office, Harry trailing after her. He stood uncertainly in the middle of the room as the professor strode to her desk and searched through the parchment on top. Professor Dumbledore was asleep in his portrait frame, his painted chest rising and falling evenly. Harry just watched him for a moment while he waited for Professor McGonagall to reveal why she had asked him here.

"He still sleeps a lot lately," McGonagall said quietly a moment later. Harry hadn't noticed her stop searching her desk and come to stand by him. She had a scroll of parchment in her hands and gazed up at the portrait with him. "Still, it's comforting to have him here. They all give good advice to a greenhorn like me." She waved vaguely around at the circular room. Harry noticed that the all the former headmasters and headmistresses were watching him. He gave a self conscious little wave.

"That must be why they are here," said Harry thoughtfully. "Remember when Umbridge couldn't get in? She obviously wasn't seen as a real Headmistress, so the castle wouldn't let her in, give her access to this office." He stopped suddenly, his brow furrowed.

"You may be right, Potter," Professor McGonagall nodded. "Only a true Head can access the combined wisdoms contained in this room."

"So," said Harry thoughtfully. "If only true Heads can even get in here, then they earn the right to have a portrait up there." He gestured to the walls above his head vaguely. McGonagall nodded.

"They're all up there," she said.

"No they aren't," said Harry softly. "Snape's not there." Professor McGonagall looked startled.

"Snape?" she asked, her nose wrinkling a little. "I wouldn't have thought-"

"He had access to this office didn't he?" asked Harry. "He belongs up there." Harry shifted uncomfortably under his professor's gaze as she eyed him closely.

"You and Severus never got along, Potter," she said eventually.

"I know."

"I confess I did not expect you to react to Severus the way you have recently," McGonagall said quietly as they both contemplated Dumbledore's sleeping form. "You've grown up, Potter. You've really grown up."

"I tried to fight it, I promise," said Harry, grinning. Professor McGonagall smiled at him fondly.

"I'm sure you still have a few boyish tricks up your sleeve," she said and Harry thought he caught a twinkle in her eye but it vanished in an instant. "Do try not to get caught." Harry stifled a smirk.

"Should be easier this year, Professor," he said solemnly. "Snape's not lurking around every corner trying to catch me out of bed." He thought he caught her smile before her mask was back in place and her lips pressed firmly together in a thin, disapproving line.

"Do be wary of Professor Fiesche," she said suddenly. Harry looked at her in confusion.

"Who?"

"The Defence professor," she said and the way her mouth twisted betrayed her feelings for the man. "Despite his own ridiculous constraints, he's a little … put out that he isn't teaching seventh year Defence. I can't quite put my finger on it …" Harry sighed heavily.

"Why is it always about the Defence professor?" he whined. Professor McGonagall chuckled slightly before handing him the scroll in her hand.

"Your class list," she said kindly. "Just mark the red tape … er roll, and make sure they don't destroy the classroom." Harry took the scroll from her carefully as if it might explode.

"Good Luck, Harry," came a familiar voice from the wall. Harry looked up to see Professor Dumbledore's portrait had woken and was smiling at him, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Thanks Professor," he said and he knew that Dumbledore and McGonagall knew he meant both of them. Professor McGonagall patted him on the shoulder before she walked briskly back to her desk.

"Off to lunch then, Potter," she said. "I'm sure you have the means to find Miss Weasley on your way back to the Great Hall." She sat down and busied herself with paperwork. Harry took this as his dismissal and waved to Dumbldore's portrait before slipping out of the room. He had unfolded the map and located Ginny before the staircase spilled him back out into the corridor. He was surprised to find Ron with her but not surprised to find out that they were outside the Hospital Wing.

Harry ambled along the corridor to the Hospital Wing. He spotted Ron and Ginny, huddled together on the floor, opposite the door. Any thought he had of sneaking up on them was erased when he saw how pale Ginny was as she sat with her arm around Ron, whose shoulders were shaking violently.

Ron was crying. Ron almost never cried. Ron got angry. Harry's steps faltered and he stood several feet away, unsure what to do. Ginny's soft voice floated to him in the stillness.

"I'm sorry Ron," she said. "I didn't mean to make you worry." Ron sniffed and raised his head.

"I know, you've said. Stop apologising," he said, a wan smile on his face. "I'm pathetic." He scrubbed a hand over his face and Ginny smiled slightly.

"Well, you're not going to get any argument from me about that," she said solemnly. She sounded serious but Harry knew she wasn't.

"I hate being away from them," Ron said in a small voice.

"It was less than a day," Ginny sounded amused but Ron turned a solemn face to look at her.

"Did Harry tell you I ran out on them, last year, before Christmas?"

"No," Ginny shook her head slowly. "But Bill did. I knew he was hiding something. I made him tell me."

"Stupidest thing I ever did," muttered Ron.

"It's a tough contest," Ginny deadpanned and received a shove to her shoulder. They were silent for a moment.

"George came home drunk last night," Ron said eventually, tracing a pattern on the worn flagstones of the corridor with one index finger. "He wasn't late, just drunk. Something went wrong on this date he had. He's going out with a different witch every night." Ginny sat quietly, waiting for her brother to continue. Harry saw her hands shake as she plucked at an invisible piece of dirt on her robes.

"It's not the way to deal with it," she said quietly.

"I know," Ron tilted his head back to rest on the wall behind him. "Mum pretends it's not happening. He staggered in last night and knocked over four chairs before vomiting into the fireplace and she just offered him a hot chocolate. She didn't even clean up his spew. George just started crying and then she dropped the whole jug of milk so Dad took her up to bed.

"There I am, sitting in my mother's kitchen, trying to find a Sobering Charm in one of her books while my brother sobs brokenly all over the kitchen table. It's not how I imagined being eighteen and finished with school would be like. I just wished I'd come back to school instead, right at that moment; someone to tell me what to do, rules, regulations. I thought I'd be hanging out with Hermione between going to Auror training with Harry. I should be conning Fred and George into giving me free Wheezes.

"Instead I'm making sure George doesn't go insane with loneliness and that the shop stays open. He has more down days than you all know. He hides it from everyone except me. I think he's trying to protect everyone. I've never seen him so drunk, though. Before … I've always dragged him quietly to bed; he just falls asleep. I've never needed a Sobering Charm before. Flitwick doesn't teach you those at Hogwarts. I'm surprised I didn't _Obliviate_ him really; although maybe he'd prefer that."

"I think sometimes we all would," sighed Ginny. "But then we wouldn't even remember Fred. I think that'd be worse. I was talking to Mrs Granger last week. She said that last year they always felt like they were missing something and never could quite figure out what it was."

"He kept crying, after he was sober," continued Ron. "I dunno, I thought he was … over it. Not over Fred's death, I don't think he's ever going to get over that. But over the crying thing; he's had a good week, things were looking up. He must have just been bottling things up." Ron sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

"What set him off?" asked Ginny.

"Angelina," replied Ron, shifting to stare fixedly at the Hospital Wing doors. Ginny looked at him questioningly. Ron didn't reply for a moment, staring at the doors. Eventually he spoke. "He ran into Angelina while he was out with Bridget … or Bridie … might have been Beatrice. She broke up with Lee. I don't know if George was cursing her for betraying Fred's memory or something – or for breaking Lee's heart. It was hard to tell." Ginny shrugged.

"Fred told me at Auntie Muriel's that they were on a break again," she supplied. "I think she was seeing Lee since Easter."

"Well I did get out of George that he ditched this Bonnie person and he and Angelina spent a couple hours drowning half a million sorrows at The Hogs Head. We were in the kitchen for ages; took me an hour to find a Sobering Charm and another half hour to make it work. Then he just started talking, and talking and talking. He kept wailing something about never getting over Fred and missed chances or something, I don't know. He passed out right about the time Hermione Floo'ed me in tears saying you were missing and Harry had gone after you and not come back.

"I just … I dunno, I couldn't even think straight anymore. She told me she was fine, Neville was keeping her company and you'd probably both be back soon. I couldn't bear it. Mum was ignoring what was going on right under her nose and now Hermione's telling me 'it'll all be fine'. I had all these visions of you losing it like George 'cause you've been bottling things up. I don't even know what I was thinking. I just felt so helpless.

"Hermione was crying and I was angry at you for making her cry and angry at myself because I couldn't be there for her. And I was jealous of Neville because he was there for her, worried about Harry because he would do anything for you and instead of telling him what was wrong you just ran off. He's been through so much and I just want him to be happy, you know, not worrying about someone every minute.

"And it was just like second year when you didn't tell anyone, Ginny. What about if it was too late by the time you asked for help? You were going to turn out just like George – an utter mess. He's a mess, Ginny. It breaks my heart. I was so angry at you because I can't worry about more than one of you at a time. I just … I'm lost. They're my best friends and without them it's … imagine how George feels. He can't even Floo through to Fred in the middle of the night and set off all the alarms in the Headmistresses' office."

"Is that what happened?' asked Ginny quietly. Ron nodded, drawing his knees up to his chest.

"Yeah, Snape alarmed all the entry points into the castle last year, like Floos and whatnot," he said. "I didn't know. I was standing on the hearthrug arguing with Hermione when she just breezed in and it was like she didn't even bat an eyelid. 'In my office, now, Mr Weasley' she says. 'And you two; follow me.' She didn't even ask what I was doing there or even look surprised!" Ginny laughed softly.

"I guess almost nothing startles her now, she's been teaching so long."

"When we got to her office she asked what I was doing there and what Hermione and Neville were doing out of bed," Ron added. "Neville said something about getting up early to study but I don't think McGonagall believed him. I mean classes hadn't even started. Not even Hermione's ever been that keen, let alone Neville."

"Did she know Harry and I were missing?"

"No," Ron shook his head. "Hermione told her we'd set up a secret meeting but you could tell she didn't believe her either. She just gave the three of us a lecture. It was pretty mild. Then she told me I should stay and settle my mind and that you, being a Weasley, would be down to breakfast. She'd have the House Elves set another place. She knew why I was there. I think she assumed you were in bed though."

"You knew where we were though," said Ginny suddenly. "How did you do that? Can you see through Invisibility Cloaks?" Ron laughed, loudly this time.

"I could see your feet!" he chortled. Ginny shook her head. Ron continued to laugh helplessly, slightly hysterically Harry thought. He felt a bit guilty for eavesdropping and wondered how he could make his presence known without scaring them both. Ron continued to laugh.

"Have you had any sleep?" Ginny asked him shrewdly. Ron shook his head.

"Got about an hour on the common room couch," he said ruefully. "Some Puddlemere-worshipping git is in my bed."

"Donald Smythe," supplied Ginny helpfully. "Most prized possession; Oliver Wood's signature, best friend; Felix R Josephs – don't forget the R." Ron grunted.

"Seamus and Dean woke me up by jumping on me," he added. "We decided to let Harry sleep. I think we all know what time you came in last night. Were you two up all night?" Ginny blushed a little.

"No, we were in Hagrid's cabin with Dora," she admitted. "We fell asleep."

"Is that what you young people call it these days," said Ron, affecting the shuddery speech of an old man. Ginny nudged him with her shoulder.

"Shut up, we really did!" Ron just grinned at her before sobering slightly.

"He deserves to be happy, Ginny."

"I know," his sister replied. "He is … apart from the whole hexing him thing …" She trailed off and Harry saw a grimace pass over both their faces.

"He's going to be all right isn't he?" Ginny asked plaintively and Ron folded his lanky arms around his sister.

"He'll be fine," he said softly. "Always is; takes a bit more than a stray hex or three to take out Harry Potter." Ron and Ginny didn't hear Harry's footsteps as he approached.

"I can't believe we hexed him …"

"I can't believe Hermione didn't use Protego," Ron shook his head.

"That's what I told her," Harry said.

Ginny's reaction was immediate. Before Harry had time to blink she'd scrambled to her feet and thrown herself at him. Harry winced as she threw her arms around his neck and accidentally thumped him in the back of the head where it was still tender.

"You're all right, you're all right," she kept repeating.

"I will be if you stop hitting my head," Harry grumbled good-naturedly as she knocked his ear trying to squeeze him tighter. Ginny pulled away, mumbling an apology which Harry swiftly cut off with a kiss.

"Stop that," Ron groaned. He too had risen to his feet and was standing awkwardly, his hands in his pockets. Harry just grinned at him.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Ginny said. "I didn't mean to hex you, I was aiming for Ron."

"And I was aiming for her," Ron added sheepishly. "You sure you're all right?"

"Madam Pomfrey let me go about an hour ago," Harry replied, nodding. He looked from Ron to Ginny. "I guess you two have been sorting out your differences properly, then?"

"Yeah, we have," answered Ginny softly. "Ron was a bit worried about us and under a bit of pressure at home, that's all."

"I heard," Harry said softly. Ron shrugged.

"We'll get by," he said, scuffing at the floor with his foot. "I'm really sorry, mate." Harry shook his head.

"You'd think I'd know better by now that to stand in between the two of you with your wands drawn," he laughed.

"Probably not the smartest thing you've ever done," agreed Ron.

"So, you're not here to beat me to a pulp for staying out all night with your sister?" queried Harry, gesturing that they should go. He scooped up Ginny's bag and slung it over his shoulder with his own. With his other hand he reached out and entwined his fingers with hers.

"Nah," said Ron, "I'm hoping you won me the bet." He grinned cheekily at them and Harry turned a violent shade of red.

"Ron!" protested Ginny sharply.

"I don't know how you all think you'll even be able to know who wins this bet," said Harry conversationally, his embarrassment receding. "Do you expect me to waltz up to you lot and let you know at which point I deflowered your sister?"

"Harry!" Ginny stared at him incredulously.

"We planned to get you pissed," grinned Ron. Ginny just shook her head. She started to pull away from Harry; her cheeks stained a brilliant red. Harry pulled her back to him, winding his free arm around her waist and stopping in the middle of the corridor.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her head. "We shouldn't joke about it." Ginny nodded into his chest where she'd buried her face. Ron cleared his throat.

"I might just go find Hermione, say goodbye," he said. "I'll see you guys next Hogsmeade weekend." Harry remembered what Professor McGonagall had said.

"Might be sooner, Hermione's got a surprise for you," he said, smiling.

"Take care of yourself Ron," said Ginny suddenly, lifting her head. Ron nodded and then surprised Harry by stepping forward swiftly and embracing them both for a brief moment before he pulled away and quickly jogged off down the corridor in the direction of the Great Hall.


	29. Chapter 29

**29. Flight**

Harry and Ginny stood in the hallway for a while after Ron left. Ginny didn't move, she simply laid her hand over Harry's heart as if feeling its beat, and lowered her head back down to rest next to it on his chest. Harry dropped their bags on the floor with a loud thump and circled both arms around her, his hands splayed across her lower back.

"I'm sorry," Harry said eventually into the stillness.

"What for?" asked Ginny, her voice rumbling gently against his chest.

"Making bad jokes, making you worry, just ... I don't know," Harry finished lamely. Ginny laughed softly and lifted her head off Harry's chest to look up at him.

"I'm sorry too," she said. "I should have put my wand down when you stepped between us ¾ I was just so mad at Ron. I thought he was angry at me for being out with you. I worked myself up all morning. I sent a raving letter to Mum …" Ginny stopped and thumped her head lightly on Harry's chest.

"I had no idea what was going on," murmured Harry. "Every time I tried to find out something would get in the way! Why would Hermione sit next to you in Potions? Not only could I not ask you why you were fighting with Ron, but I had to sit with _Malfoy_. Now I'm stuck with him for two months!" Ginny looked up at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry," she said, biting her bottom lip. "I pulled her to sit with me so I could rant to her about Ron. I'll swap if you like."

"No way," grimaced Harry. "I won't let you work with _Malfoy_!"

"Really?" Ginny arched one eyebrow and pulled away slightly. Harry didn't falter.

"Really," he said firmly.

"You won't _let_ me?"

"Nope." Harry shook his head firmly. Ginny eyed him speculatively for a moment.

"Do you realise I don't need your permission?" she asked. Harry just nodded. "And you're going to forbid me anyway?" Ginny frowned and drew her eyebrows together. Harry pressed her a little closer and ran a hand over her hip and down her thigh. He felt her shudder a little and mould her body into his.

"It's not really about forbidding," he said quietly as he lowered his mouth over hers. Ginny did not protest and Harry kissed her leisurely and when he pulled away her eyes remained closed, her lips still parted and her face tilted up towards his. "It's about protection."

"I don't need protecting," Ginny protested weakly.

"I know." And because she didn't protest when he pushed her backwards into the wall as he kissed her, running his hands possessively over her hips and waist, Harry took that to mean that she would allow his protection; perhaps just this once.

Harry was just about to insist they get some lunch before it was over when a loud caterwauling started up and Peeves swooped along the corridor cackling loudly and screeching.

_Potter and Weasley are snogging each other's brains out on the third floor!  
Snog, snog, snog, snog, snoggity, snog-snog!_

Blushing, Harry broke off the kiss and glared at Peeves malevolently as the poltergeist saluted him and glided through the corridor, still screeching his little ditty. Ginny giggled nervously and Harry looked down at her and grimaced.

"Sorry, I got carried away," he said, not at all sure he was sorry about getting carried away, only about getting caught. Ginny shrugged.

"Well, at least now we know how my brothers will probably _find out_," she said mischievously and ducked under his arm to skip away. Harry laughed and scooped up their bags once again before following her.

"I think I would rather at least get the free liquor out of it," he called after her as they both made their carefree way down to the Great Hall, where Peeves was hovering in the middle of the room, dancing a jig mid air. Harry pretended to ignore the sniggers coming from the other students as he and Ginny seated themselves at the Gryffindor table opposite Dean and Seamus.

"Honestly," said Dean as he selected a ham sandwich. "Everyone knows Peeves haunts that corridor outside the Hospital Wing looking for public snogging _all the time_. What on earth possessed you guys?"

"Well, no one told me," mumbled Harry reaching for his goblet. Dean smirked at him.

"Ginny knows," he said and suddenly winced. Harry suspected Ginny had delivered a well aimed kick under the table and he smiled into his pumpkin juice.

"Where's Hermione?" asked Ginny suddenly. Neville looked up from his plate.

"Ron was just here. I think she went to say goodbye," he replied. "She said to tell you she'd be back for Defence, Harry. I'm not sure why she wanted me to tell you that though. I mean I could just tell the Professor if she's not back before we start." Neville shrugged and continued eating. Harry faltered with a sandwich halfway to his mouth. He'd utterly forgotten that his classmates, with the exception of Hermione and Ginny, had no idea that he was to supervise their Defence class.

His mouth went dry and he looked up at the head table to see the teacher with the cat hat staring at him. The man, catching Harry's eye, narrowed his eyes at him and turned his mouth up in a smile at the same time. Anyone who was looking would have thought the man was being pleasant but Harry could see the expression in his eyes as the man held his gaze. He couldn't decide if Cat Hat was looking at him with disgust or loathing but then decided that it amounted to the same thing.

Feeling rather off-kilter by the exchange, Harry discarded his half-eaten sandwich and tried to drink the rest of his pumpkin juice. When it was time for the first class period after lunch and his Housemates all arose and gathered their bags, Harry just sat there. He was no longer disturbed by the strange teacher but overwhelmed by the notion that he was to supervise his classmates.

What if they didn't listen to him? He'd seen what they could get up to. That room could be deconstructed in minutes. He had only two objectives: to make sure they turned up and that the classroom remained intact. He suddenly doubted his ability to accomplish either.

"Harry!" called Neville. "Are you coming?" Harry looked up, feeling distinctly unwell.

"Um … yeah, just give me a sec, Neville," he replied. He felt clammy all over. He took a deep breath and gathered his bag, checking for the scroll of parchment that contained the class roll. As he stood up he felt a small, warm hand slip into his and squeeze. Harry squeezed back reflexively and then looked down at Ginny.

"You'll be fine," she whispered and smiled. Harry held onto her hand like a lifeline as she led the way the way up to the Defence classroom. He wanted nothing more than to run the other way and the only thing that kept him moving towards the classroom was Ginny. Her warm, soft fingers were hooked around his cold, clammy ones ¾ tethering him to her. He followed her blindly until they reached the doorway of the classroom, still fighting the urge to turn and run. As Ginny took a step over the threshold, Harry faltered.

He could see inside the classroom. In seventh year all four Houses had this class together and he saw Seamus balancing on the back legs of his chair while Dean leaned on the desk in front of him, gesturing wildly with his hands, telling a story Harry couldn't hear. Neville was sitting next to Luna at a nearby desk, his chin in his hands as he listened to Dean. Ernie Macmillan, Padma Patil and Justin Finch-Fletchley were conversing in hushed tones. Anthony Goldstein looked like he was trying to chat up Susan Bones; who looked decidedly uninterested. A number of students from Ginny's year were also in the class.

Harry recognised the blonde Ravenclaw from Muggle Studies examining her face in a small mirror and nodding rather absently to her female companion who was writing on some parchment. This girl suddenly folded the parchment into a paper plane and spelled it to fly across the room to a rather large boy who was idly blowing bubbles while he tilted backwards dangerously on his chair. The paper plane hit the boy on the nose and he fell flat on his back, groaning. The surrounding students tittered and giggled before he was helped up by another boy who Harry recognised as a Gryffindor in Ginny's year. He wondered if this was the Puddlemere-worshipping git in Ron's bed or the one with the garishly lettered trunk. Harry was still unaccountably terrified of the class but he smiled at the carefree nature of the students, swapping notes, chewing bubble gum and leaning haphazardly on the furniture. Half the class had been in the DA, most of the rest were sitting amongst them writing notes or gossiping.

It was clear they were all comfortable with one another in spite of their different Houses and ages; except for the small knot of students sitting at the back of the classroom under the window. Draco Malfoy was surrounded by several Slytherin students including Blaise Zabini and a small stringy boy who looked as though he might be related somehow to Theodore Nott. Daphne Greengrass was perched uncomfortably on the edge of a chair while a sleazy-looking, pimply-faced boy leaned over her, talking intently.

Ginny looked back at Harry expectantly, still holding his hand. Harry looked at her helplessly and she just smiled and tugged on his hand. But Harry did not move; he felt as if he were rooted to the spot, his feet anchored to the flagstones in the corridor. He shook his head slightly.

"I can't go in there," he whispered. Ginny's brow furrowed and she studied him for a moment.

"They're your friends," she said, stepping back towards him and squeezing his hand. "They will be thrilled to have you for a teacher."

"I'm not a teacher," growled Harry softly. Ginny shrugged. If she had been about to say something it was cut off by the sudden arrival of Hermione who came to a halt behind Harry, breathing heavily.

"Oh good, I'm not late then," she puffed, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "Ron was being such a sook about leaving I had to practically shove him through the gates. Isn't it great we get to see him every fortnight? Professor McGonagall really is being such a sport. I mean I could probably live with seeing him just on Hogsmeade weekends but, between you and me, he just isn't doing so well. I had a hard time getting him to admit it, but he's a bit lost. I mean he _is_ right, isn't he? We still have each other and he's all alone.

"Oh I can't wait for next Saturday! I wonder if I can get all my homework done during the week so I can have Saturday free? Well at least there won't be any Defence homework will there? Unless you set some of course … although why I think you'd set any homework in a class you refuse to actually teach anything in, I don't know! You could at least make sure we all know how to cast the NEWT spells and we could practice doing them non-verbally. It'd be a shame to waste the time, don't you think?"

Harry just listened to Hermione as she giggled and fluttered her way girlishly through her monologue. It appeared that the end of the war was slowly changing everyone. They were a bit more cheerful, a little more frivolous and just a trifle more carefree than before. Harry peered into the room again and watched as Seamus leaned over to chat up the girl who'd blown him off at the train station the night before. Dean was now sitting with Justin and Ernie and they were smirking at Seamus. The girl turned her nose up and her back on the Irishman and the other three boys laughed uproariously. Seamus flipped them the bird and Neville spared them a glance but was nervously watching Luna slide a hand up his arm as she spoke absently, staring at the ceiling and waving her other hand randomly in the air.

"Harry?" prodded Hermione. "Aren't we going in?"

"What about them?" Harry hissed, indicating the Slytherins. "You said they were all my friends. They're not my friends."

"Who cares?" answered Ginny. "They're Slytherins. Half of them have Death Eater parents anyway, they don't matter."

"Ginny!" Hermione whispered disapprovingly. "You're as bad as Ron! Really Harry, Professor McGonagall put you in charge. You'll be fine."

"I don't know what on earth possessed her to do that," muttered Harry as Ginny tugged on his hand once more and finally pulled him into the room.

"Oh don't be silly, Harry," admonished Hermione. "Come on Ginny, we'll go sit near Luna and Neville." She grabbed Ginny's other hand and poked Harry in the back and towards the front of the room with the other. Harry sighed heavily and gathered what little of his courage had not fled and tried to look confident as he made his way to the front of the class. He had a feeling his stride probably looked more like a nervous shuffle. Dropping his bag on the desk at the front of the room he turned around and leaned on the desk, hoping he looked a lot more casual than he actually felt. The room gradually fell silent as his classmates noticed him and began eyeing him speculatively.

"Isn't that desk for the _teacher_, Potter?" Malfoy suddenly drawled. "Or are you so far up yourself you think none of the rules apply to you?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Seamus belligerently. "What's goin' on Harry?" Harry cleared his throat, nervously.

"Basically," he began, "there's no teacher for this class. So … um … McGonagall has asked me to sort of, supervise. So, uh … don't blow anything up all right?"

"What do you mean there's no teacher?" asked a tall, thin Ravenclaw boy with a thatch of blond hair that he ruffled as he looked at Harry in confusion. "There's a teacher, that new bloke with the cat hat." Harry shifted uncomfortably and figured he'd better tell them all it was his fault they didn't have a proper Defence teacher.

"Um … well … he sort of isn't going to teach seventh year," Harry sighed, "because of me." The Ravenclaw boy wrinkled his nose.

"Because of you?" he asked. "He isn't teaching us because of you? What'd you do to him?" There was a burst of scattered laughter and Harry grimaced.

"Nothing," he said rather plaintively. "It's just, well he sort of refused to teach me and McGonagall couldn't get anyone else because the Board says the Defence teacher has to be an Auror now and-"

"We never had an Auror before," interjected a Hufflepuff from the back row.

"Yeah we did," replied a girl Harry remembered as one of Ginny's dorm mates. "That Moody guy – in third year; he was good. Hey why can't we have him?" Harry sighed heavily and looked out the window.

"Because he wasn't an Auror, he was a Death Eater," he said softly. "And the real Auror Moody is dead." No one said anything for a long moment.

"So how come you didn't just drop Defence?" asked the haughty girl Seamus had been trying to win over. "Then at least we'd have a proper teacher." She sat back and folded her arms across her chest and scowled at him, her resemblance to Umbridge made Harry shudder involuntarily.

"Hey!" Seamus interjected. "Harry's probably a better teacher than old Cat Hat anyway!" A chorus of 'yeahs' from Dean, Neville, Ginny and Luna echoed his sentiment. Harry wondered if Seamus had just blown his chances with the girl because she sniffed haughtily and looked pointedly out the window.

"It's tied up in politics," Harry explained. "There are people on the School Board who insist that the teacher be an Auror. There's not a lot of Aurors about at the moment and finding a teacher was hard-"

"Well it's not like you're an Auror either, Potter," said Blaise Zabini suddenly. Malfoy made a sound like he was choking.

"Actually I do have a position in the Auror department," said Harry uncomfortably. "Erm … it's a sort of provisional thing." The class studied him intently.

"Cool," said Dean eventually. The rest of the non Slytherin students echoed his sentiments by smiling or nodding. It felt like approval. Draco Malfoy was scowling and his Housemates either followed his lead or, in the case of Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini, schooled their thoughts to look carefully neutral.

"McGonagall and the Minister felt it best that I continue to take NEWT-level Defence Against the Dark Arts. However, Professor … um … whatsisname, he refused to teach me," Harry shrugged.

"So we all suffer," the haughty girl narrowed her eyes at him as if by doing so she could pin him to the wall.

"How come you have to do Defence anyway?" asked Neville suddenly. "I mean it's not like you aren't already good at it."

"I think it's a bit daft forcing an Auror to sit around at school if there's not enough of 'em as it is," asserted one of the Hufflepuffs.

"That's why Harry has to do Defence then, isn't it?" Dean said decisively. "They need more Aurors and you can't be an Auror without your Defence NEWT." The cacophony of voices grew louder.

"Oh honestly! Who expects Harry Potter to have his Defence NEWT?"

"The Minister obviously."

"That's daft."

"Not really. How'd you feel if you heard Harry Potter wasn't doing Defence? I mean he's going to be an Auror, right? He needs a Defence NEWT."

"But he's not a teacher."

"Brilliant, it's like a free period!"

"I still don't see why we have to suffer, how shall we pass our own NEWTS without proper instruction?"

"Reckon if we made it through the war alive we know enough Defence to pass our NEWT, anyway."

"Yeah, this'll be a cinch."

"Harry's actually a pretty good teacher."

Harry rubbed his temples as the students argued back and forth. He hadn't even marked the roll yet and the haughty Ravenclaw, still glaring daggers at him, was continually proclaiming rather loudly that she was being severely disadvantaged in her education.

"Well, maybe Harry'll teach us something," Dean snarled at her suddenly. The girl looked taken aback and Seamus shot him a baleful look.

"Like what?" asked the small stringy Slytherin suddenly. "My dad reckons all he knows how to do is _Expelliarmus_." The boy laughed raucously. Malfoy, Zabini and Daphne sat silently while the other Slytherins joined in the laughter. The sleazy-looking, pimply-faced boy took out his wand.

"I could totally take him in a duel," he proclaimed loudly. Seamus stood up, tipping his chair over and pulling out his wand.

"Oh really? You think so; do you, you little runt?" he asked angrily. "I'd like to see you try!"

"You-Know-Who couldn't even take him in a duel!" called out Ernie Macmillan suddenly.

"There was this little thing you missed, Salbadar Limuson!" called one of the other Hufflepuffs from near the front. "Since _your House_ sort of_ left_ instead of staying to fight last year!"

"Yeah you don't know anything!" proclaimed Ashton Grant. Limuson raised his wand and pointed it at Harry, smirking shamelessly. Harry had no desire to pull a wand on anyone and just stared at him.

"Well, come on then Potter," said the Slytherin boy. "Prove yourself!"

"Put that down, you idiot," said Malfoy lazily. "None of you can beat Potter in a duel … except maybe if his girlfriend and Granger team up." Harry heard Hermione groan and Seamus snort. He had a very good idea that Ginny's face was bright red but he kept his eyes on the wand pointed at his face.

"Well you beat him once, didn't you Draco?" demanded Limuson. "In second year?"

"I hardly think Potter controlling the snake I sent after him constitutes a defeat," said Malfoy quietly.

"You always said you totally beat him, Draco," piped up the stringy boy. He looked puzzled.

"Well then you were an idiot for believing me, weren't you?" replied Malfoy scathingly. "I mean you were there."

"But you said …"

"Yeah well, I said a lot of things," muttered Malfoy, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at the table. Harry watched him with interest but Dean suddenly exploded.

"Harry beat Malfoy last time they duelled, you little toe rag!"

"Yeah, you'd know all about getting beaten by Potter, wouldn't you, Thomas?" smirked Malfoy, glancing in Ginny's direction rather obviously.

"I was talking about when we were _guests_ in your home," spat Dean. Harry took his eyes off Limuson and his wand and looked at Dean and then Luna. Luna was sitting up a little straighter, extremely pale. Hermione, sitting behind her, twisted her hands nervously and images of Ron screaming her name while Bellatrix Lestrange held a knife to Hermione's throat flashed though Harry's mind. His hands shook and he gripped the table, glancing at Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy was sitting ramrod straight in his chair, his face as pale as his hair. The rest of the class were looking from Dean, to Harry to Malfoy questioningly. Malfoy suddenly spoke in a measured, even tone.

"Potter has beaten me every time we have duelled," he said. "If you have received any other impression, you need to listen more carefully." Harry shook his head mentally at the way Malfoy indicated that others were fools for believing him. As if it was their fault and not his for bragging. But Salbadar Limuson hadn't finished. Harry fixed his attention back on him when he heard the boy snort.

"Well, clearly he doesn't play fair does he?" Limuson shouted, his wand never wavering. "I didn't imagine you gloating over his detention for nearly killing you that day. Snape was pretty clear about how dangerous Potter is when riled. I mean you were a Prefect and he slashed you open in cold blood-"

"Malfoy was about to _Crucio_ him!" shouted Ginny suddenly, her eyes blazing. "Probably your favourite spell, isn't it, you slimy little piece of pond scum!" Limuson turned his wand on Ginny and shouted a spell Harry didn't even hear. He had his wand out and bellowed _Protego_ before Limuson's spell had even left the tip of his wand.

Limuson was clearly enraged that his spell had been thwarted and turned his wand on Harry. As he ducked a purple spell, Harry had a grim realisation. The Slytherin knew that by threatening Ginny Weasley he would get exactly what he wanted – a duel with Harry Potter.

Unable to get a clear shot at Limuson through the desks, chairs and other students Harry dodged a streak of silver light that went sailing into a group of Hufflepuffs who scattered, squawking indignantly. Immediately Neville cast a Shield Charm around his classmates and Harry dived behind a chair as a streak of red light sailed past his left ear.

"Sit down, you idiot!" bellowed Malfoy suddenly. Limuson turned to give him a contemptuous look and Harry took his chance. Scrambling up onto the teacher's desk to get a height advantage, Harry aimed his wand over the heads of the other Slytherins.

"_Expelliarmus_!" he cried and then thinking quickly followed it by a nonverbal _Levicorpus_. Salbadar Limuson was soon wandless and hanging by one ankle, high above the rest of the class, the blood rushing slowly to his head and turning his face a lovely shade of puce. With his wand still trained on Limuson, Harry hopped lightly off the desk and bent to pick up the discarded wand. He walked slowly over to Malfoy and handed him the other boy's wand.

"Useful little spell, _Expelliarmus_," he said nonchalantly as he levitated Limuson closer to Malfoy and the ground. "It leaves you just a little bit helpless." Then Harry flicked his wand to dump Limuson unceremoniously on the floor before stalking back to the teacher's desk.

An uneasy silence settled over the classroom. Limuson staggered to his feet and snatched his wand from Malfoy before throwing himself into a seat as far away from Harry as he could get. Harry, who was still shaking from the encounter, hid his hands by searching in his bag for a quill. He unrolled the scroll containing the class list and spread it on the table, still trying to regain his equilibrium.

"Attendance is an integral part of obtaining a NEWT," he explained quietly. "McGonagall has asked me to mark the roll. After that we are free to occupy our own time without destroying the classroom." He began to read out the list of names.

"Harry?" questioned Neville hesitantly when Harry got to him. He looked up at Neville expectantly and nodded to him to go on but Neville glanced at Hermione nervously and fell silent. Dean and Seamus were glaring belligerently at Malfoy and the carefree attitude had fled the classroom. A thick, nervous cloud hung over the students, who were fiddling with quills or parchment. Feet shuffled softly and Harry could hear at least one person tapping nervously on a desk in the oppressive stillness. Harry finished marking the roll and started rolling it carefully and deliberately because he knew as soon as he finished that he would have nothing else to do with his hands. He was tying the tartan ribbon back around it with a great deal more care than he would usually exert when the oppressive silence was finally broken.

"D'you think you could show us that non verbal stuff again?" asked Ernie Macmillan suddenly. "It's just, well; you were pretty good at teaching us back in the DA and …"

"It would be very helpful," Blaise Zabini added quietly as Ernie trailed off.

"I'm not very good at nonverbal spells," Harry said.

"You did one just then!"

"Yeah well, that was a bit of a fluke," Harry said desperately, scratching the back of his neck.

"Rubbish," proclaimed Seamus. "I've seen you do that before!"

"C'mon Harry," pleaded Justin Finch-Fletchley. Susan Bones was looking at Harry as though she could convince him with her eyes and the rest of Ginny's year just looked up at him expectantly. It was as if they thought he could teach them to fly without a broomstick. He let out a loud sigh.

"All right, well, its concentration really," he began. "It's mostly just practice, so start with the spells you are really good at."

The lesson period was spent productively after all, although Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini were the only Slytherins to participate. Hermione had actually managed to levitate a feather wordlessly but Seamus only set fire to it and that sent Dean into a round of helpless laughter that Neville, Harry and Hermione joined in.

"Win-_gar_-dium Levi-_o_-sa," muttered Seamus in a perfect imitation of Ron as he cleaned up the ashes. The lesson finished and the older Gryffindors were still laughing helplessly. Ginny looked at them bemused.

"I'm almost scared to ask why you are all laughing so hard," she said, picking her bag up off the floor. Seamus grinned at her.

"Once upon a time, oh fair lassie, there were a wee young prince called Ronald," he winked at her. "And he pined for a fair princess who corrected him all the time. The court jester tried to impress her with his prowess but all he did was set fire to his feather."

"Oh, right," said Ginny smirking. "So who eventually won the heart of the princess?"

"The prince did," said Hermione dreamily. "Because even though he thought she was mental he still saved her from the troll using the very spell with which she had tortured him. He's actually a very smart prince and the jester is apparently still turning feathers into ashes."

"He hopes to win a girl soon though," said Seamus. "There she goes!" Seamus took off after the girl he had been pursuing since the night before.

"He is never going to win her over," said Neville.

"Oh he will," Dean assured him.

"I cannot see Audrey Harrison-Smythe willingly going out with Seamus Finnegan," laughed Ginny. "The only person more fond of rules is Percy!"

"I bet you a galleon he has won her over by the end of September," said Dean. Ginny regarded him carefully for a moment.

"Deal," she said, holding out her hand and they shook on it before heading out of the Defence classroom. Harry caught up to her at the last row of desks and slid an arm around her shoulders.

"Hey there Professor Potter," said Ginny, looking up at him. Harry grimaced.

"That just sounds stupid," he said and Ginny laughed.

"It wasn't so bad was it?"

"No, not at all, not once I subdued a random Slytherin," Harry snorted. "I mean I could have let him hex me, but I've already tried that today." Ginny blushed and Hermione turned in the doorway.

"Well I think it went very well, Harry. I think we could get quite a lot done this year," she said earnestly. Harry just nodded at her enthusiasm as she began to list all the things they should make a note of to practice. Harry tuned her out a little and was trying to figure out a way to get past her when he heard a series of short, sharp footsteps. Their owner had a gargantuan shadow that looked like it moved of its own accord. As the tall, thin man with the Cat Hat came around the corner his shadow loomed seemingly large, at odds with his actual profile.

He wore voluminous robes of a deep green that seemed to shimmer as he moved and a pair of dragon-hide boots with shiny tips. His cat was curled around his head. Up close it looked quite ludicrous and Harry unsuccessfully fought the urge to laugh. He managed to contain it as a sort of half snort; half cough and stepped into the corridor. Professor Fiesche looked at him with barely concealed disgust.

"Are you _quite_ finished with my classroom?" he asked. Harry just nodded and had to jump quickly out of the way as the professor swept imperiously into his classroom and shut the door with a snap.

"I thought McGonagall said he was intimidated by you?" asked Ginny as they stared at the closed door. Harry shrugged.

"I'm beginning to think she was mistaken or he was pretending," he answered.

"He doesn't seem to like you much at all," said Hermione as they headed to the Gryffindor common room.

"He's the Defence professor," said Harry. "I think it's in their contract."

********************

Hermione, Ginny and Harry were studying in the Gryffindor common room when the rest of the house trooped in after the final lesson period of the day. Strictly speaking, Hermione was studying and Harry and Ginny were playing footsies under the table and with quills on top of it. Hermione was either too absorbed to notice or too busy to care because she didn't admonish them for it. Harry had written two sentences of his Herbology report and Ginny had done even less of her Muggle Studies quiz.

"Hey, Hermione," asked Ginny suddenly. "How do you turn on an ekeltrick light?"

"I know how to do that!" protested Harry indignantly. "Why are you asking her?"

"Oh! I forgot!" Ginny said. "I'll find you a question; I already know the answer to the football ones. Dean's got a one track mind …" Harry frowned and scribbled another line in his Herbology homework.

"I don't think you are supposed to get other people to answer the questions for you, Ginny," said Hermione disapprovingly. Ginny's retort was cut off by a loud argument coming from the portrait hole.

"Don't say that!" screamed Gilbert Chumley. He was red in the face and his fists were clenched as he glared at his brother.

"You know it's true as well as I do," answered Gerald calmly. Gilbert went white.

"No! No it isn't! Don't say it," he whispered before turning and dashing up the dormitory stairs, tears flowing down his cheeks.

"Oi!" called Seamus. "What'd you say to the kid?" Dexter and Hamish hurried up the stairs after Gilbert while Othello shook his head slowly at Gerald.

"I think it's time he faced the facts," said Gerald sullenly.

"But you don't know the facts do you?" asked Othello quietly. "Gilbert told us what happened in Transfiguration. Just because your dad went to work and never came home doesn't mean he's dead."

"Oh and really, where else would he be then?" asked Gerald scathingly. "It's been a year! Why wouldn't he come home all this time? The war's been over for months and he _hasn't come home_!"

"He's probably still in hiding," said Othello desperately, Gerald looked to be on the verge of hysteria.

"Well why didn't he take us with him?" he said brokenly. "Why didn't he just come home first?"

"Maybe he couldn't, mate," said Dean quietly. "People who went on the run last year … had to just duck out pretty quick mostly. Not everyone was able to send word to their families either."

"Well he's probably dead now anyway," said Gerald harshly, as if breaking down would ruin his image. "Can't imagine hiding would be easy; bound to get caught in the end aren't you? I read that Anne Frank story when I was still in primary school."

"Not everyone who went on the run got caught and … killed," said Dean, glancing at Harry and Hermione. Harry looked at Hermione out the corner of his eye. She was deathly pale as she stared at Gerald and bit her lip. Gerald glared at Dean.

"Oh and you'd be the expert at it," he said sarcastically. "Spent a good bit of time on the run then, have you?"

"As a matter of fact I spent most of last year on the run," said Dean quietly, "until I got caught."

"Better than being stuck in some ancient house full of decrepit wizards and stuck up Muggles," muttered Gerald. "At least you were free to roam about the place instead of listening to some fat, Muggle dunderhead argue with his parents the entire time. If I never see Dudley again it will be too soon." Harry's mouth went dry. He was about to ask Gerald more about his year in hiding when Dean exploded.

"I spent weeks on the streets of London after the Death Eaters nearly caught me in Diagon Alley!" he bellowed. "I didn't have time to tell my mum or my sisters anything. I had no idea if they were even all right. Sure, I was free to _roam_. You may not have realised but England isn't the warmest of places, even in summer. Hiding among homeless Muggles isn't exactly a good way to keep warm unless you want them a little too close!

"I cast some bluebell flames in desperation one night, halfway through autumn, and they found me quicker than you can say Jack Robinson. I Apparated wildly; nearly Splinched myself, it was not pleasant. Then I spent the next few months living in forests and fields with a couple old-timers and some ancient goblins. DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO CATCH FISH WHEN THE RIVERS AND LAKES ARE FROZEN OVER?"

"Dean, go easy -" began Seamus, but he was cut off. Dean turned on him rapidly.

"Don't you even start!" he said. "This little upstart spent his time in some _safe house – _andyou! You were here! All right for the purebloods and the half bloods isn't it? Nice and safe at school; Warm beds, food on the table; it's all right for some. What have you got if you're Muggle-born? A price on your head, that's what!" Neville held out a hand.

"Dean-"

"You don't even know, Neville!" Dean cut him off. "You don't know what it's like; isolated, fighting for your life when you don't know where your enemy is or even who it is. And you can't use magic in case they can find you. I spent months camping on frozen ground and hiding in Muggle barns, just waiting; hoping and waiting for something good to happen. And this little … the little _smart aleck_ has the _gall_ to question if I know what it is like to be forced into hiding!"

"It wasn't all that safe here," Seamus shot back.

"But you knew what was going on," said Dean. He was running out of steam. "No relying on some dodgy old bloke on the run from the Ministry to tell you if your friends are okay. Then wondering just how badly they got punished. And your mum knew where you were. You didn't have to run away without even telling her where you'd gone; if you were okay."

"People went missing from Hogwarts too," said Neville quietly.

"Being here was like being isolated too," said Ginny quietly. "It's no easier being the person who didn't get to say goodbye." Harry felt his heart clench.

"But _he_ can't stand there and tell me that he had it so much worse," said Dean, stabbing a finger in Gerald's direction before turning to stare out the window.

"I didn't _choose_ to live locked up in a house for months on end," said Gerald. "I didn't _choose_ to be stuck in a house with a fat pig who brainwashed my brother! I didn't choose never to be allowed outside and to try and keep my mother from drowning in her own grief... He never came home. He never sent word."

"The fact you were sent to a safe house means your dad got word to someone," Seamus said quietly. "Almost no one went to safe houses after the Muggle-born breakout at the Ministry. Me mam said going into hiding was more dangerous than staying in your house with wards cast."

"Well it's been exactly a year since Dad went to work and never came home," said Gerald. "And Gilbert didn't even remember it was today. He still thinks dad's alive."

"He might be," said Harry. He distantly heard his own voice, sounding calmer than he felt. His heart was hammering in his chest and his hands were clammy. He looked at Hermione. Her eyes were wide and her hand shook as it covered her mouth.

"How would you know?" asked Gerald harshly.

"Because I told them to go," whispered Harry. "I told them to go, get out; go overseas."The faces of the scared Muggle-borns in the Ministry swam before him. He almost didn't hear Neville.

"What do you mean you told them?" he asked. "Who did you tell? What did you tell them?"

"The Muggle-borns," Harry said agitatedly, "in the Ministry on September second last year. I told them to hide overseas if they had to."

"Then it's your fault," said Gerald accusingly. "Mr Dursley was right. You are a troublemaker."

Harry stood abruptly. Images of that day at the Ministry ran through his mind. The frightened faces tumbled through his head, mingling with Dean's face the night they were snatched and taken to Malfoy Manor. He could see Luna's protuberant eyes, glowing in the dark cellar; Aberforth's twinkling blue eye staring at him, so like Dumbledore's; Dobby's green tennis ball eyes glowing in the dim light of the cellar. He could hear Ron screaming Hermione's name and Mary Cattermole crying for her children.

He left his belongings on the table and stumbled to the portrait hole, desperate to escape the images and sounds that only he could see and hear. He spilled out into the seventh floor corridor and started running, trying to get away. He didn't know where he was going and he didn't really care but he found himself staring at the blackened wall opposite the tapestry where Barnabas the Barmy was teaching ballet. Thinking feverishly he paced back in front of the wall, willing the Room of Requirement to appear to give him somewhere to think.

The blackened wall remained unmoving and impossibly impenetrable. Harry kicked it in frustration and sank to the floor, cradling his head in his hands. The tender spot on the back of his skull was throbbing and it felt almost as if his head was about to explode. Gilbert and Gerald's father had been at the Ministry that day and never come home. Gerald, Gilbert and their mother had gone into hiding with Dedulus Diggle and stayed with his aunt, uncle and cousin in a safe house.

The cheerful, carefree façade of Hogwarts was cracking. There were too many stories, too many traumas and no one could keep the front up for long. It took only a word, a phrase to chip away at carefully constructed walls and barriers to expose deep wounds. With each word about his year on the run Dean had hammered another wedge into Harry's own self control. He had wanted to shout at them all that if it was a contest about who had it worst, then he had them all beat. He wanted to tell them he'd spent the year on the run, hiding and eating fungus because the biggest price was on his head.

He wanted to yell that he'd lost more parents than any of them and he'd had to run without saying goodbye, too. But he didn't. He just ran. A part of him whispered that it wasn't his problem anymore and he could just keep running, but Harry knew that wasn't true. He'd been wrapped up in this war since before he was born and now he was such an integral part of it that he couldn't extricate himself. It wasn't over yet. He had to find out what happened to all those people at the Ministry that day. He couldn't ignore the Dursley's any longer.

But Harry Potter was having a very bad day and instead of turning around and facing his responsibilities, he kept them at bay for a little while longer. Harry Potter turned and ran.

*********************

Harry traced the lines on the Astronomy Tower with his index finger. They curved and weaved across the inside face of the tower. The fresh mortar and the patched cracks made a random pattern of welts and scars across the wall. He sat with his back in the corner, his robes pulled tightly around his shoulders to ward against the cold seeping in from the window above. The line he was tracing ended abruptly in a mess of stone-coloured mortar near the floor and he stretched his fingers out to splay them across the cool flagstones.

Harry had been examining the repairs to the Astronomy Tower for the past two hours. If you walked around Hogwarts you didn't see the cracks unless you looked closely. There were more lines and patches on this piece of wall than he'd ever thought possible. The Astronomy Tower itself was unnaturally clean. There was no dust on the freshly finished windowsills and no fingerprints marred the gleaming surfaces of the telescopes in the corner. They were new, just like the tables in the Great Hall and the panes of glass in the Greenhouses. The flagstones looked scrubbed and there were patches on the walls and floor that were cleaner than the rest.

As he trailed his fingers along a gouge in the floor Harry wondered who had fought up here. There was a new tapestry hanging on one wall and Harry thought he could see splashes of blood on the floor underneath it. He couldn't bear to look under the tapestry to see what it was hiding on the wall underneath. Someone's blood had been spilled here, they may have even died and the thought made him shiver. He hadn't remembered that the Astronomy Tower had been damaged but the evidence was all around him. There were no unclaimed cloaks hanging on the pegs by the door; no abandoned quills or half empty inkpots on the shelves where bags were stored. It should have smelt like parchment and ink, mouldy socks and sweat, from generations of students who came up here to study or to … relax. Instead it smelt like brass polish and varnish.

Hogwarts was just like the students: it looked fine. The wood gleamed, the brass work was shiny and no dust rose in little puffs from the carpets when you walked. The tapestries were hung with care and the stonework was clean. But if you looked a little closer you could see that the walls had cracks, that the fixtures were new and untested and that some things were simply covered up. Harry thought if he started chipping away at the patch under his hands that the old Tower might start crumbling away. It was too new and too fresh to hold if he put it under any pressure and it wasn't hard enough to resist the scratches that he couldn't help putting in it.

When the first drop of blood from his torn and bleeding fingertips fell onto the new mortar and sank into the porous stone he stopped his scratching suddenly and stared at his fingers, uncomprehending. He watched the blood beading and slowly dripping into his palm before hesitantly wrapping his hand in the hem of his robes and leaning his head back against the wall. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander.

He was surprised to find himself still alone. He thought someone would have come looking for him a long time ago. Maybe they had, he mused, they'd just not found him yet. He didn't know why he'd come here, he was just running and this was as far as he could go. He knew he had to go back but he didn't know if he was done thinking yet. The problem was he couldn't remember what he'd been thinking anymore. He knew he needed to write a letter to Dudley. Perhaps he was just putting it off by hiding up here. He'd have to go soon, it was almost tea time and he was getting hungry. He checked his watch and sighed. Deciding to go down to the Great Hall, he hoisted himself to his feet. The blood had dried on his hand and he cast a Cleansing Charm before opening the door. He stopped abruptly when he nearly ran into Draco Malfoy on the other side.

"Alone, Potter?" he asked, smirking. Harry gave him a withering look, as he stepped over the threshold and onto the landing.

"I don't see your company, Malfoy," he said as the other man ignored him and pushed past into the Tower room.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, sounding suspicious. Harry saw no reason to evade the truth.

"Thinking," he shrugged. "There's a lot to think about these days."

"Yeah," said Malfoy quietly. He turned to stare out of the window and Harry almost felt compelled to stay and ask him what was wrong. He may have done it too, if there had not been a sudden thundering of footsteps on the stone steps below.

"HARRY!"

"Can't a man get peace and quiet around here?" complained Malfoy at the sound of Ron's voice.

"I had a couple hours of it," smirked Harry. Malfoy just turned his back on him.

"What's Weasley still doing here anyway?" he asked pointedly. Harry groaned. He had not even registered that Ron shouldn't _be _there.

"Ron?" he called down the stairwell.

"Shut up, Potter," said Malfoy, sounding rather irritated. Harry ignored him and took a step towards the stairs when Ron came around the corner of the spiral staircase.

"Harry! Where have you been?" he panted, gripping Harry by the arms tightly.

"I've been up here," Harry replied, "thinking." Ron let him go and slumped against the wall.

"The whole time?" he asked. Harry nodded. Ron pushed himself off the wall and grabbed Harry's arm again, pulling him down the stairwell. "Merlin, can you teach those girls to use the ruddy map?"

"What are you doing here, Ron?" asked Harry as he stumbled down the steps after his best friend.

"Looking for you," retorted Ron. "Hermione Floos me in tears again – I mean what is going on with all the crying? As far as I can tell, you had a fight with a Slytherin and Dean loses his marbles and then you run off - and all after lunch! Is that about right?" Harry pulled his arm out of Ron's grasp.

"Yeah, about right," he agreed. "Still don't see what you're doing here."

"Hermione called me," said Ron, "in a right state. Not sure where you were, Dean gone off his rocker and some midget called Galbraith or something having a crisis."

"So she Fire-called you to talk?" asked Harry. Ron stopped abruptly and he groaned as comprehension flooded over his face.

"She just called me to talk, didn't she?" he asked. Harry nodded. "And I rushed over, didn't I?"

"Apparently so," reflected Harry.

"McGonagall is going to kill me," said Ron morosely.

"Not today, Mr Weasley," McGonagall's firm voice came from behind them. "I suggest however, that you return immediately to the place from whence you came and stay there until a week from Saturday." By the time Harry and Ron turned around the Headmistress was gone. They could hear her swishing around the corner.

"Creepy," commented Ron. "She can do that disappearing thing just like Dumbledore." They headed straight for the Gryffindor common room and had an argument with the Fat Lady about whether Ron could go in.

"He's not exactly a resident, is he?" she sniffed.

"I am and I said the blasted password," said Harry in exasperation. "Harry Potter, Harry Potter, _Harry Potter_!"

"How do I know he's not up to no good?"

"Has the war addled your brains, woman?" asked Ron. Harry groaned.

"Ron!" he hissed, but it was too late. The Fat Lady turned her back on them and walked out of her frame.

"Oi! What sort of guardian do you call yourself then?" Ron called after her.

"Shut up, Ron."

They waited only moments before the portrait hole opened and Dean spilled out in the corridor, Seamus on his heels.

"No, I want to!" Dean was saying angrily. "Let me just take the scrawny little git and-"

"No," said Seamus firmly. "I know he's being a git but the kid lost his dad. Give him a break."

"He's not the only one, is he?" argued Dean. "Little tosser thinks he's more hard done by than anyone else!"

"Well you're not the worst off either!" Seamus retorted. "What about Harry! He lost both his parents years ago, had You-Know-Who after him for years and went on the run before you did! Show a little tact and sensitivity, man!"

"Yeah, some tact …" said Ron. Seamus and Dean jumped and turned to face them.

"I … er … well … oh bollocks," said Seamus turning a fetching shade of red.

"Sorry, Harry," said Dean quietly. "You all right? You've been gone a while." Harry nodded.

"Yeah I've been thinking," he said. Dean nodded silently. No one spoke. Seamus shuffled his feet nervously and Harry leaned against the wall his hands in his pockets.

"You reckon she'll come back?" asked Ron eventually, gesturing at the empty portrait. Seamus shrugged.

"Doesn't matter, time to go down and eat anyway," he said.

"For you maybe," grumbled Ron. "McGonagall will have kittens if I turn up in the Great Hall. I wanna say good bye to Hermione before I go though."

"She's talking to that Chumley kid," said Seamus.

"The git?" asked Ron with a scowl on his face.

"Nah, the little one," Seamus replied. "He came back down after you ran out of the common room and practically launched himself at his brother, something about how he'd know if their dad was dead."

"Neville had to separate them," added Dean. "He hauled Gerald off and left Gilbert to Hermione."

"What's going on with them?" asked Ron.

"Remember how their mum said her husband never came home from the Ministry one day?" Harry said. Ron nodded. "It was the day we were there." Ron straightened up abruptly.

"What happened to all those Muggle-borns?" asked Ron quietly. Harry shook his head.

"I don't know."

"Well, we've gotta find out," said Ron urgently. Harry nodded. Seamus and Dean looked at the two of them questioningly.

"Why would you go into the Ministry, Harry?" asked Seamus. "They were looking for you. They had Ministry officials swarming all over Platform nine and three quarters the day we left for school. Dunno why they thought you'd turn up to go to school with a price on your head."

"I was Undesirable Number One by then," muttered Harry as he leant against the wall next to the Fat Lady's portrait.

"So what was so important that you went to the Ministry?" Dean asked curiously. "And how'd you possibly get in and out without getting caught?" Harry glanced at Ron.

"We nearly did," said Ron.

"Polyjuice Potion," said Harry. He was about to say more when the portrait swung open again and Neville clambered out.

"Oh there you are, Harry," he said when he spotted the other man. "Ginny's mumbling something about castration under her breath in there." Harry grimaced and reached over to shut the portrait hole with a click.

"Damn shame the Fat Lady's gone and I'm stuck out here then, isn't it?" he muttered. Ron snorted loudly and Dean let out a bark of laughter.

"So what was so important you had to go to the Ministry a year ago?" continued Seamus. "Not exactly safe was it?" Harry glanced at Ron who nodded slightly and at his best mate's agreement Harry told them about disguising themselves to go in and find the Horcrux, Umbridge presiding over the Muggle-born Commission and the way in which they'd been uncovered and almost caught.

"So we only just barely got away," finished Ron after Harry stopped speaking. "I'm still missing a chunk of my arm. Not the last time I got Splinched."

"Mr Chumley was there that day; it was the day he never came home," Harry added. "He might still be alive, a lot of people got away that day. Who knows where he went."

"Well then we have to find him," said Ron, "and bring him home. Those boys need him."

"Why us?" shrugged Dean. Seamus looked at Ron questioningly.

"Percy says the Ministry's got their hands full with trials, fixing up the prison, keeping people like Malfoy in line," said Ron.

"What's Malfoy doing?" asked Harry sharply.

"Nothing yet," replied Ron, "but you wouldn't want him to start would you? There's no time or manpower to track down missing persons."

"Those boys are Gryffindors," said Neville quietly. "We look after them and no one should be without a parent." Harry looked at Neville; the round-faced, chubby boy had vanished a long time ago. This man was someone new, someone with drive and determination.

"War orphans …" murmured Harry. He saw Dean and Seamus shift uncomfortably. Ron examined his feet carefully. "It's not just Gryffindors. I bet there are kids in the other Houses with missing parents too." Neville nodded.

"No one deserves that if it can be helped," he said.

"So that's why us," said Harry. "Why not us? You don't have to lose your parents or your family to know how important it is to find these people and bring them home. They've got to be out there, some of them had to have gotten away."

"I'll talk to Percy," said Ron. "He must have some sort of idea about where people went while they were in hiding." Harry nodded.

"We'll find out who we are looking for, too," said Seamus. "Can't find 'em unless we know who they are."

"How're we going to do anything stuck at school?" asked Neville.

"Well, I never let that stop me before," said Harry resolutely, pushing away from the wall. "I'm going to find their dad and bring him home, one way or another. They're hurting; they need him … or closure. Right now … I need a way to get back into this common room. I think I might have some explaining to do."


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: I'm not used to adding these, but I wanted to thank everyone for their reviews and so forth. Someone said I *had* to tell people why the fic was rated M if I was going to rate it that. I didn't realise I *had* to do anything. But since it was demanded of me – I rated it M to be on the safe side because I suck at getting ratings right and everyone has a different opinion and that's the box I ticked *shrugs*. There's no swearing, there's no explicit sex and only some bloodshed but I was once told to up a rating when Harry and Ginny kissed so now I err on the side of caution.**

**Anyway, glad you are all enjoying the story!**

**__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________**

**30. Safety**

The rest of that first half-week at school passed quietly. Ron had returned home after kissing Hermione passionately in the middle of the common room and making her blush. He'd also slipped Harry a bar of Honeydukes chocolate and told him it might come in handy as a peace offering, given the look Ginny was throwing him. Ginny hadn't spoken more than three words to Harry for the rest of the night and went to bed early without giving him a good night kiss. Hermione took pity on him and told him why Ginny was upset, instead of making him work or beg for it. The first opportunity he got the next morning, Harry pulled Ginny aside to apologise.

They had just finished breakfast and were on the way to Herbology when Harry ducked into a secret passage along the way, dragging Ginny with him. She looked at him coldly and Harry solemnly handed her the bar of chocolate.

"I'm sorry," he said. Ginny took it hesitantly and began opening it. She paused before breaking a piece off and popping it in her mouth.

"What for?" she mumbled. Harry had a feeling he was being set up. After a long pause he sighed. It was no use; he couldn't possibly anticipate what the correct answer was. He made a silent vow to himself to actually read _Twelve Failsafe Ways_ because Ron clearly knew more than he did. Harry decided to go with what should be a safe answer.

"Being stupid," he said. Ginny snorted and broke off another piece of chocolate. She stuffed it in her mouth and looked Harry in the eye.

Harry squirmed.

"If I'm not allowed to run off, then neither are you," she said finally. "You aren't the only one who's earned the right to worry. I waited a long time to be able to worry with you." She looked away quickly and shredded the wrapper on the chocolate bar. but not quick enough to mask the hurt in her eyes. Harry reached out to caress her cheek before trailing his hand down her neck and arm to grasp her hand.

"I know. I'm sorry," he said. He was utterly sincere. "I just … it had been a long day and he sort of took me by surprise."

"Gerald?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "He was in hiding with Dudley." Ginny's eyes went wide and her mouth formed a perfect 'O' of surprise. She squeezed his hand and then broke off another piece of chocolate and popped it in her mouth.

"What are you going to do about it?" she asked. Harry watched as the chocolate rolled around her tongue and mouth as she spoke.

"We're going to find their dad,' he said absently as he moved closer to her. '"Are you going to share any of that?" Ginny grinned at him and slowly broke the remainder into two pieces. Harry reached out and placed his hands on her waist pulling her close.

"Maybe," said Ginny, "if you're good."

"What do I have to do to be good?" Harry asked as he lowered his mouth to her neck.

"That's a decent start," Ginny breathed as she ate one of the pieces and tilted her head to give Harry better access to the lovely soft patch of skin just behind her ear.

"Where's mine?" Harry murmured, hovering over her lips. Ginny held up the last piece of chocolate, tantalisingly close to his lips before smiling wickedly.

"Come and get it," she whispered putting it on the tip of her tongue. Harry needed no second invitation and he pressed his mouth over hers, sweeping the chocolate into his own mouth as he kissed her fiercely.

The temptation to stay there had been immense. The kiss was warm and chocolatey and Ginny seemed to enjoy trying to get the chocolate back. Every kiss should taste of chocolate, Harry thought. But then the chocolate was gone and Harry knew that every kiss should taste like Ginny. They did make it to Herbology just in time but Hermione eyed them disapprovingly, Dean and Seamus were unable to keep a straight face and Neville kept signalling something. Eventually Ginny reached over and straightened his tie before wiping a smear of chocolate from the knot. Professor Sprout had been far too involved in explaining the intricacies of Rueberries and Flagwort to pay any attention to them and Harry grinned as Ginny trailed a finger down his tie – to make sure it was perfectly straight, of course.

That morning also saw their introduction to the new Transfiguration professor. Professor Thistlewaite continually dropped things whenever Harry caught his eye. Harry and Ginny began counting how many times Harry could make him drop his quill or a book. It didn't last long because every time the professor bent over to retrieve the dropped item, his hat would fall off and he would perch it hastily on his head only to have it start to slide off again. Nothing was getting done and Hermione was giving both Harry and Ginny a look designed to freeze hell over. Harry stopped trying to terrorise the poor man who was clearly in awe of him and they spent the lesson mostly listening to stories about the professor's Aunt Flossie who was gifted in Transfiguration. Seamus decided by the end of that first lesson that she needed to be canonised, given how often Professor Thistlewaite referenced her as 'sainted'.

"I'm going to submit it to the Muggle Pope," he declared. "I mean I'd submit me old Auntie Bridget but she's not sainted, merely giddy."

Double Charms nearly had the older Gryffindors in tears of laughter when Seamus managed to set fire to six pillows trying to clean and shrink them simultaneously.

"No, no, no Mr Finnegan," squeaked Professor Flitwick. "Do the charms one at a time! It's supposed to be a revision to ease you all back into the school year, not a time to practice _Augamenti_!"

"Stop," said Hermione, a wicked gleam in her eye as Seamus waved his wand wildly trying to extinguish the cushions. "You're saying it wrong." She extinguished the cushions and restored them efficiently. Seamus pretended to swoon at her feet and Dean muttered something about her being completely mental. The reprimand she got for turning his hair into dreadlocks was minor.

"No, no, no Miss Granger," said tiny Professor Flitwick. "This is Charms, not Transfiguration." Later that night at dinner she confessed that Flitwick had asked her later that afternoon if she needed extra help due to her year away. He had been worried she was struggling to settle back into school.

As Harry flew around the Quidditch pitch on Friday just before lunch he wondered if he was struggling to settle back into school. He'd had Thursday afternoon free and now most of Friday – after a particularly excruciating Double Potions class where he and Malfoy had been unfailingly polite to each other. In fact, Harry had a free timetable until the fourth class on Monday, which was after the morning break. Ginny and Hermione were currently in Arithmancy and that afternoon Hermione had an Ancient Runes class. Harry felt at a bit of a loose end. He knew he should be using the time wisely to study but he had never had a free period without Ron before. Neville was taking extra Herbology classes; Seamus and Dean were taking Care of Magical Creatures and spending their spare time playing Exploding Snap and plotting to win Audrey over.

Harry felt alone.

He finished flying and made his way up to Gryffindor Tower. Stowing his Firebolt in his dorm room, he pondered his Muggle Studies text briefly but simply couldn't bring himself to take the set essay seriously. Professor Crockwell had assigned two feet of parchment on the board game Monopoly. He'd never played it but he'd seen Dudley and Uncle Vernon play it all the time. It never ended well as the two were as greedy as each other. Harry sighed heavily as he shoved the text book to the side and flopped onto his bed. He'd been avoiding the Chumleys and avoiding contacting Dudley. It was as if Liberty knew he was supposed to be sending a letter because she kept flying to the dormitory window and looking at him balefully.

Harry felt guilty for not writing and for not paying attention to his owl. Liberty was sitting on the windowsill and Harry deliberately turned his back on her. The only incentive to sending Dudley an Owl was that it would drive his aunt and uncle mad. The thought made him chuckle briefly before he spied his potions text book under the Muggle Studies text and scowled. In order to complete the assignment Slughorn had set he would have to actually see, speak to and interact with Malfoy more than once outside the Potions class. Although it had been amusing to hear Malfoy practically admit to being a complete and utter git, it did not mean Harry wanted to spend any extra time with him.

Harry found himself wandering slowly down the Grand Staircase to lunch, at least half an hour before the meal was scheduled to start. He was halfway down the staircase and was pondering getting off on the fourth floor landing to take a stroll along a gallery he'd found once, tucked away into an obscure wing of the castle and full of oddly shaped urns, when the staircase suddenly changed and swung to deposit him on the fifth floor from which he'd just come.

"It's a good thing I'm not in a hurry," he muttered peevishly as he stomped along the landing, trying to navigate onto a set of stairs that would actually go down instead of up.

"Perhaps you should be," piped up a small voice from his left. Harry didn't even blink.

"What would you know?" he asked, without bothering to check which painting had spoken.

"Putting things off never led to anything good!" proclaimed the tiny voice. "If you don't do it now you might never get a chance!" Harry turned to locate the sage advice giver. In a tiny painting, no bigger than a dinner plate was a fat, dimpled little boy in an old fashioned frock coat. He held a large piece of cake in one hand and a lollypop in the other. He looked familiar.

"Gee," said Harry sarcastically. "You sure look like you know all about that."

"I may look stupid," said the boy in the painting, "but I'm not."

"You're right," said Harry. "You do look stupid." He turned to go when the painted boy laughed.

"You'd think you, of all people, would have learnt _carpe diem_," he scoffed before shoving the lollypop in his mouth and shuffling out of his painting and into the meadow in the painting next door.

"Hey, what does that mean?" demanded Harry, but the fat little painted boy ignored him and concentrated on aiming a kick at the cow in the meadow and then running away laughing when the occupant of that painting, a thin, mean looking woman shouted and began chasing him with a frying pan. It was then Harry realised the boy reminded him of Dudley. Harry shook his head and kept going down to the Great Hall.

He was distracted while trying to decipher the little boy's words and fell victim to one of the trick staircases. He was still there, his leg stuck in it up to his knee when Professor McGonagall swept around a nearby corner. She raised an eyebrow at Harry who was perched at a rather precarious angle, one foot stretched behind him and the knee on his other leg starting to glow an odd sickly shade of green where several misfired spells had failed to release it. Harry was scowling at his wand and trying to aim it correctly. Professor McGonagall made a tutting sound.

"I thought you knew where all the trick staircases were, Potter?" she queried, getting out her wand.

"I did, I do," said Harry through gritted teeth. "I wasn't think- erm, they've moved this one." Professor McGonagall unsuccessfully hid her smile as she waved her wand and muttered an incantation that released Harry's leg.

"How do you find your timetable?' Professor McGonagall asked him as she walked alongside him as he continued down to the Great Hall.

"It's fine," sighed Harry. "All my free time seems to be together though and, erm… I am at a bit of a loose end. I'm not used to having um, time."

"Large blocks of time without prior commitment can be very … useful," McGonagall said. She sounded as though she was choosing her words very carefully. "They allow one to, shall we say, take care of other responsibilities and commitments." She gave Harry a meaningful look.

"You mean like … Teddy?" Harry asked, unsure if he had grasped her meaning. Professor McGonagall nodded.

"I think you will find Hagrid perfectly able to facilitate …" she lowered her voice as they went past a group of students so small they had to be first years, "exit and entry. Don't be late for lunch, Potter." The Professor hastened her step as they neared the door to the Great Hall and swept inside. Harry stared after her with a grin. If he wasn't mistaken, she had just told him to go and visit Teddy in his free time.

******************

Ginny's eyes sparkled as Harry told her what Professor McGonagall had told him regarding the use of his free time. He had decided to go and visit Teddy that night and come back the next day.

"Just imagine how we can use this," Ginny said with a wide smile. Hermione broke in disapprovingly before she could say anything else.

"I doubt Professor McGonagall meant you, Ginny," she said with a frown. "You have Astronomy early on Monday and we need to prepare tonight. The wireless said it would be cloudy over the weekend and you know we need to bring that filled-in chart to class." Ginny made a face as Hermione turned back to her text book and absently bit into a sandwich.

"She's right," she sighed. "I have a pile of Arithmancy homework to do as well as that silly Monopile essay."

"I tell you what," said Harry. "I'll go get a Monopoly set and we can play it on Sunday and write our essays."

"Hmmm, this could be to my advantage," said Ginny slyly. "I have run out of chocolate and I'll need some next week." Harry furrowed his eyebrows at her.

"How can you possibly know you'll _need_ chocolate next week?" he asked her, puzzled. Ginny blushed slightly."Are we expecting a Dementor attack?" He raised his eyebrow at her.

"For the same reason Ron sent me some yesterday, Harry," said Hermione primly as she packed her bag.

"Ron sent you chocolate?"

"Yes, Harry."

"For some specific reason?"

"Yes, Harry," repeated Hermione before she left. Harry looked around in confusion.

"But why?" he asked no one in particular.

"Just buy her the chocolate, Harry," said Dean as he got up. "It'll be worth it." Ginny threw a balled up napkin at his head and he laughed before accompanying Seamus to the Ravenclaw table where Audrey turned her back on the pair of them for what was probably the twentieth time – that day.

"What sort of chocolate, Ginny?" he asked. She shrugged.

"Doesn't matter," she said before grimacing. "I need to go meet Susan. She's going to help me with some Arithmancy. It's such a bore. I probably won't even need this for Quidditch, but Mum ..." She trailed off with a grimace and shrugged as she stood up.

"I'll see you tomorrow," said Harry catching her hand before she left. Ginny turned and gave him a soft smile.

"Can't wait," she said and pressed a kiss to his cheek before shouldering her bag. "I like soft centres." Harry laughed and watched her as she left, turning at the door to wave.

"Have fun, Harry," said Neville as he grabbed a sandwich and gathered his own bag. "I … well I have to help Professor Sprout with some re-potting this evening but maybe I can visit Teddy with you one time?" He seemed a little shy as he said it and ducked his head as if he thought Harry might laugh at him.

"That'd be great, Neville," said Harry sincerely. Neville beamed.

"I'll see you later, Harry," he said. "Don't forget that chocolate."

"Why?" wondered Harry aloud to his retreating back. "What's so important about chocolate?" Neville chuckled and said nothing. Harry scowled but his bad mood did not last long and within half an hour he had gathered together his things and was on his way to Hagrid's Hut.

Harry found Hagrid tending his garden. Harry watched for a moment as he saw Fang gambolling around the pumpkin patch where the tiniest of pumpkins were growing on sprawling vines. Hagrid was trying to pull out a massive weed and it was resisting vehemently.

"Ah come out yer crazy green piece o' compost!"

"Need some help?" called Harry. Hagrid looked up.

" 'Arry!" he called. "Professor McGonagall said you might be comin' ter see me this afternoon." Harry nodded as he put his bag down.

"Well I'll be right with yer as soon as I get this thing outta the ground," he grunted. "Right useful plant an' all but not among me pumpkins."

"Er, what is it?" Harry eyed the plant suspiciously. It was about a foot tall and had several stalk like vines and large glossy leaves sprouted directly from the stalks. There was a single large flower with white petals and a massive yellow centre sitting at the bottom.

"Gabblerwort," replied Hagrid shortly before giving another heave. The flower suddenly snapped shut and the plant let out a scream. Harry slapped his hands over his ears.

"Why can't you just leave it there?" he asked when the scream had stopped.

"Well it's already strangled three of me pumpkins!" exclaimed Hagrid. "I can't just leave it there! Can't have the Halloween Feast without pumpkins now, can we?" Harry sighed resignedly.

"No, of course not," he murmured.

"I can't seem to get it out though," said Hagrid wiping his brow with one large hand.

"It's not really that big," said Harry critically. "I bet its root system is bigger than the plant, though." Harry peered closely at the thing.

"Maybe I should get Professor Sprout down here to get it out if she wants it so much," grumbled Hagrid.

"Professor Sprout wants it?" asked Harry as he poked the plant timidly. Hagrid just nodded, the dirt previously trapped in his beard flying off in alarmingly large clumps.

"Apparently it's one of th' main ingredients in a new werewolf potion Professor Slughorn is trying to develop. Supposed to be more effective than the Wolfsbane. 'Parently this is the finest lookin' plant the professors have ever seen," he said. "Professor Sprout wants to cultivate it, I think. If they can brew this potion it might stop this big push on at the Ministry lately. There's some quill-pusher wantin' to redo all th' werewolf legislation. Some joker called Brown or summat." Harry's stomach lurched.

"What do they want to do to the werewolves?"

"Put more controls on 'em. How'd yer like that?" rumbled Hagrid gruffly. "Reckons they can't be trusted and anyone who's ever had any contact needs to be locked up at the full moon. Wants to register all 'werewolf influenced' offspring, set up some sort of home fer 'em. Bill Weasley's fightin'em tooth an' nail."

Harry felt ill. Hagrid looked at him curiously as he sat down abruptly on a nearby stump.

"You all righ', 'Arry?" he asked, getting up and searching a pile of gardening tools nearby before pulling out a large garden fork. Harry took a deep breath.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Hagrid," he said. "I just – I need to go do something." Hagrid nodded.

"Figured you migh'," was all he said as he plunged the fork into the earth near the plant. "Jus' lemme get this plant to the Greenhouses and -" Harry pulled his wand from his pocket and cast a Summoning Charm on the plant. With a loud squelch it pulled free of the ground and came zooming into his arms, showering him with dirt. He handed the plant gingerly to Hagrid who looked at him in amazement.

"Got a pot?" asked Harry shortly. Hagrid chuckled and turned to dump the plant in a nearby Hessian sack. He scooped a few handfuls of dirt into the sack and tied the top around the stalk of the plant.

"I'll just take this up ter the professor an' be righ' back 'Arry." Harry nodded and sat back on the stump to wait.

This changed his plans. He still intended to visit Teddy but he needed to know what was going on with this legislation. He needed to see Bill.

**************

Grateful not to have to use the Floo, Harry still stumbled on his landing outside Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. He pushed the door open and immediately a loud clanging began sounding throughout the shop. Ron suddenly dashed out of the room, his wand held aloft and his eyes darting furiously. He relaxed visibly when he saw it was Harry.

"I'm going to rip his other ear off soon," Ron muttered grumpily as he reached up and pulled a green wire out of a box above the door. Harry peered into the box curiously as the clanging noise became a persistent ringing.

"What is that thing?"

"Some thing called a door bang," said Ron frowning at the red glow coming from the wire in his hand. "Dad got it in some raid on a Muggle bookshop. He reckons it is supposed to let the shopkeeper know a customer is there. He gave it to George who thought it'd be a good idea to spell it to make a noise when someone opened our door." Ron wrestled briefly with a red wire, finally pulling it free and the lingering ringing stopped abruptly.

"I think it's a door bell," said Harry, following Ron to the counter where he dumped the wires into a bent wire wastepaper basket.

"That is not a bell; that is a bang!" complained Ron. The wastepaper basket belched and spit the wires back out onto Ron's feet. He kicked them under the counter. "George spelled it all right but it makes that awful sound every time and I still think it's someone starting a fight. He went off to the pub laughing about it. I'm the one who has to put up with the noise!"

"Well I guess not any more," said Harry, dropping his bag next to the counter and picking up a trick wand from the bin by the door. He waved it experimentally and it turned into a trout – complete with the smell.

"New and improved," said Ron proudly as Harry wrinkled his nose. "What are you doing here anyway? How'd you get out of the castle?" Ron chuckled as Harry explained the tacit permission he had received, from the Headmistress, to leave the school grounds.

"But I got delayed because Hagrid was supposed to unlock the gate for me and he was fighting some crazy plant in the pumpkin patch," said Harry as he fiddled with a stand of Wonderwitch products.

"Wow, you went out the gate?" smirked Ron.

"Yes, I know it's unusual for me," deadpanned Harry, "but apparently I'm going to be a world-class Auror. At some point I have to start following the rules."

"Heh," said Ron, walking to a door at the rear of the shop. "Moody wasn't what I'd call a rule keeper." Harry followed his friend and leaned in the doorway as Ron inspected a bubbling cauldron in the room beyond.

"His nickname was also _Mad_-Eye," retorted Harry.

"Good point," said Ron as he stirred the cauldron twice clockwise. "Dad's spearheading a campaign to put a new statue in the Ministry; a memorial for the people like Moody who died … last year."

"Better than whatever campaign's going on about werewolves," Harry said.

"Oh yeah, I heard about that," said Ron, adding a pinch of something dark and muddy looking to the cauldron. The thick orange potion bubbled viciously before subsiding. "Bill's furious."

"Who is trying to redo the legislation?" asked Harry as Ron put a cover on the cauldron. Ron turned and exited the small storeroom that held experiments in progress and Harry stepped out of the way as Ron shut the door behind him.

"Some uncle of Lavender's," he answered. "Her family's all bent outta shape by the fact Greyback went after her."

"I thought she was all right?" asked Harry, following Ron around the shop as he straightened stock on the shelves.

"She is," Ron said softly. "She wasn't hurt by that animal anyway. Hermione got to him before Greyback got to her. Parvati says she's terrified of her own shadow now, though."

"Parvati didn't come back with Padma," mused Harry as he picked up a Skiving Snackbox.

"Nah she and Lavender set up that new fortune telling place over there," said Ron, gesturing out the window to a small door, shrouded in filmy shawls. "Opened it up … Monday I think it was. I've seen Parvati out and about, she came over here one day and George tried to chat her up. Lavender never comes out though. Parvati reckons she Floos in every morning and she avoids all the customers and just does the books and things and then Floos home at night. Parvati was saying she doesn't think Lavender even goes outside."

"But Lavender was all right," protested Harry. "She came to the award ceremony and spoke to Luna for that article and everything." Ron shrugged.

"Apparently she went a bit … strange last full moon," he said. "Parvati said she had some sort of nightmare about werewolves. I'd go and see her but … somehow I think I'm the last person she'd want to talk to, y'know? Are you buying that?" Harry looked down, startled at the package in his hands.

"Yeah," he said. "I think it'll give Ginny a way out next time Hermione corners her to study." Ron snorted indelicately and then waved off Harry's money.

"Honestly, as if we'd let you pay," he said as he pulled the blinds down on the window near the cash register. "I'm closing up, where are you headed anyway?"

"I was gong to see Teddy, but I need to find out about that werewolf legislation," Harry answered.

"Well, Bill's your man there," said Ron absently, counting the day's takings and putting it into a Gringotts sack. "Why don't you Floo him and ask him if you can drop by? I've got to run to the bank. You do that and I'll meet you back here. Then we can head home. I'm telling you, mum will be that thrilled to have you home to fatten up." Harry laughed and headed to the office.

Bill agreed to fill Harry in on the new proposed legislation immediately and said he'd meet him at the Burrow after tea that night. Harry had no sooner pulled his head out of the fireplace when Hannah's frantic voice filled the room as her head popped up in the green flames.

'Ron! Are you there?"

"Nah, he's stepped out. Erm, I can give him a message if you like?" answered Harry.

"Oh! Harry! Oh – um okay, that'd be great," Hannah seemed surprised to see him, for which Harry did not blame her. "Just tell him … oh just tell him can he please come and get his brother." There was a loud crash and the sound of breaking glass and Hannah pulled her head swiftly from the flames and was gone.

Ron shook his head when Harry gave him the message. His shoulders slumped and he looked defeated.

"It's barely five in the afternoon," he said dejectedly. "I think George is getting worse. I've never had to pick him up so early before." Harry squeezed Ron's shoulder.

"Come on, I'll help," he said and the two of them stepped out into the falling dusk and, locking the door behind them, made their way to The Leaky Cauldron.

"Hannah's been pretty good," said Ron as they walked. "She looks after George you know; calls me when he's had too much at lunch, sometimes late at night." He shrugged. Harry didn't know what to say. This was a new part of life, one he'd not seen before, one which he suspected Ron had grown weary of hiding.

When they entered the pub through the back entrance it was a world of noise and colour – the hair and the language. A red-headed man stood in the middle of the pub, a large tankard of mead in one hand and gesturing wildly with the other.

"Oh thank goodness you're here!" exclaimed Hannah, dashing over to them, a tower of glasses wobbling precariously in her grasp. "He sort of got really loud really suddenly and I just didn't realise he'd had so much to drink!"

"But-but that's not George!" sputtered Ron as the red-head sloshed the mead down his front trying to drink it. "That's _Percy_!"

"Well, he's your brother, isn't he?" said Hannah impatiently and she walked away, her tower of glasses swaying dangerously. Ron sighed heavily.

"Why me?" he muttered as he approached the now singing Percy. Harry trailed after him.

"Ninety-nine bottles of mead on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of me-eaaaaaaad!" bellowed Percy before letting out a loud belch in Ron's face.

"Oi Percy, you sound like you've had ninety-nine bottles of mead," Ron said, taking the tankard from his brother's grasp and putting it on a nearby table.

"Hey!" Percy protested. "Thass mine!"

"Yes, it was," said Ron grimly. "But seeing as you've had enough mead we're giving it to the poor people."

"Haven't had enough mead," said Percy woefully. "Still hurss. It still hurss! Gimme back my drink." Ron shook his head.

"Nah mate, come on let's get you home," he said and then paused." Although come to think of it, Merlin knows where it is you live."

"Ron?" questioned Percy suddenly, peering through his spectacles at his younger brother. "Ron, is tha' you?"

"Yes, it is and-"

"Oh Ronnie bo-oooooooooy!" Percy suddenly burst into song. "The pipes the pipes is ca-aaaaalling … only I think it was Hannah called you … from glen to glen and down th' mount – hey there ain't no mountains in Diagon Alley! Ooh mountains … I learnt a song once, this Muggle girl taught me, about mountains. She reckons there ain't any high enough. She let me see her -" Percy paused, tried to grab the mead again and looked around and lowered his voice to what he probably imagined was a conspiratorial whisper, "her peaks if you know what I mean?"

"That's lovely," said Ron, moving the mead further out of Percy's reach and pulling out a chair to push his older brother into.

"She had some very nice breasts," murmured Percy contemplatively. "I'll tell you who else has very nice breasts – P'nelpy. Not that I have ever touched them. S'not right isst?" He looked up at Ron imploringly and Harry saw a tear roll down his cheek.

"I am sure she has very nice breasts. Let's get you home," Ron muttered. "Now can you please tell me where you live?" Percy regarded him solemnly for a moment.

"I live in a flat," he enunciated very carefully. "An' it's very, very boring. Jus' like me." He nodded emphatically before clutching his head.

"Yes, I can believe that," said Ron, rolling his eyes. "Where is it?" Percy suddenly looked at Ron with wide eyes.

"Guess who else has gotten breasts, Ron?" he said urgently. "Ginny has gotten 'em. Someone's going to try and touch hers!"

"Don't be daft, man," said Ron, hoisting Percy to his feet and slinging an arm around his shoulder. "She's going out with Harry." Percy stood up ramrod straight.

"Sheesh got a boyfriend? Have I met him? Ish he nice?" Percy's words tumbled out faster than the Hogwarts Express. "Heesh not going to touch her … peaks is he?" He slumped forward as if the effort of speaking had exhausted him.

"No, of course he's not," Ron rolled his eyes at Percy behind his back.

"Good," said Percy decisively, stumbling back and falling into the chair, "cos thass jus' not right." Ron hauled Percy out of the seat again and slung one arm over his shoulder. Percy swayed precariously and Harry hurried to prop up his other side. Percy peered at Harry.

"Come on mate," muttered Ron and began leading them to the door. "We'll take him to the Burrow. I don't think this one should Floo, he's liable to get out at the wrong grate; hope my Side-Along is up to it." Percy lurched sideways suddenly and Harry staggered under the weight.

"Hey," mumbled Percy, "you're Harry Potter. You're a hero. You figh' dragonsh!" Harry grimaced as Percy breathed in his face.

"Yes, yes," said Ron impatiently as Percy stopped and took his arm from around Ron's neck and reached up in the vague direction of Harry's forehead. Harry eyed Percy warily and then winced as Percy narrowly missed his eye and stabbed him in the temple.

"You've got a scar up there," slurred Percy as Ron grabbed his arm and slung it back around his shoulders. "P'nelpy's got a scar. From slicin' s-stuff. Potion s-s-stuff. Snape, he c-called 'er … called 'er …"

"Dunderhead?" supplied Ron, grunting with the effort of dragging a resisting Percy out of the pub so they could concentrate on Apparating him home.

"Yesh!" shouted Percy triumphantly. "But sheesh not. Sheesh not a dunderderhead. Sheesh very, very shmart."

"Yes of course she is, hold tight Perce." Ron signalled to Harry to let go of Percy and then Apparated them both away. Harry followed moments later and reappeared on the lawn outside the Burrow to find Ron holding Percy up as he vomited into a garden bed. Percy looked wretched. He was slightly green around the edges and looked extremely wan as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Ron abruptly hauled Percy to his feet.

"Come on, inside, let's sober you up," he said briskly. He dragged Percy up the back steps and into the kitchen. Harry trailed after them. He watched as Ron sat Percy in one of the chairs at the kitchen table and pulled out his wand. Percy lurched forward and tried to get up. Ron shot out a hand to pin him in place.

"I have to get back," Percy mumbled. "Got to 'pologise … 'splain thins."

"Oh no you don't, sunshine," muttered Ron, emphasising his words by pressing Percy back into the chair. "Sit tight and in a few minutes you can _'splain_ things to me." He waved his wand and muttered an incantation Harry had never heard before and suddenly Percy groaned and laid his head on the table.

"Oh why is the room spinning?" he whimpered quietly, closing his eyes.

"Because you had too much to drink you git," answered Ron loudly and Percy winced, clutching his head.

"I thought you sobered him?" Harry commented, observing Percy as he moved slowly and carefully to pick up the jug of water on the table and pour himself a glass.

"I did," said Ron with some satisfaction. "Hangover charm comes separate, after he tells me what made him drink a lake full of mead."

"I only had the two tankards," said Percy, "and I have a vague feeling I didn't even finish the second one."

"Well yes, two tankards of mead on top of how much Firewhiskey?" Ron said as he leant against the table.

"Just three shots," protested Percy, his head in his hands. Ron shook his head with a wry grin.

"Don't go drinking any more, hey Perce?" he said. "You simply cannot hold your liquor. Now what is it got you so bent outta shape that Hannah had to call me to come get you?"

"I wasn't that bad," said Percy weakly.

"Oh yes, you were!" ground out Ron, poking a finger in the air near Percy's face. "You were so sloshed it took _both_ Harry and me to get you home!"

"Harry? He's at school," said Percy, taking a sip of his water.

"No, he's not," said Ron. "He's standing right there because he had something better to do this weekend than look after drunken brothers, so pull yourself together!"

"But she's left," said Percy with a despondent glance at Harry, "and she is never coming back."

"Who?" asked Ron impatiently searching the large containers on one of the sideboards and pulling out a handful of biscuits and tossing one to Harry.

"Penelope," moaned Percy. "She thinks I was having an affair with Stella!" Ron stopped short, a biscuit halfway to his mouth which was wide open in shock. He dropped abruptly into the chair next to Percy.

"She left you?" he repeated blankly. "But you … you've been together for six years."

"Seven," said Percy distantly. "Well close enough to anyway, we didn't sort of really get officially together until sixth year but, well … we didn't have anyone else for a whole year before that."

"So … what happened?" asked Ron, pushing a crumbling biscuit over to his older brother. Percy picked it up and ate it absently, staring into the distance.

"Stella," he mumbled through biscuit crumbs. "D'you remember that day you came, Harry?" Harry jumped, startled at being addressed; he nodded quickly and sank into a seat at the table.

"Yeah," he said. "I thought you were imagining that she was stalking you." Percy nodded emphatically and groaned. Ron muttered a quick incantation under his breath and Percy suddenly looked a lot more relaxed.

"You were right," he said. "She's got a Muggle boyfriend with a Heavy Darlinson and a really big tattoo – bigger than George's."

"Harley Davidson," murmured Harry at the same time Ron yelped, "George has got a tattoo?" Percy looked at Ron questioningly.

"Yes," was all he said. Ron shook his head slightly.

"So what did Stella do?" Harry asked.

"Nothing!" cried Percy, "but Penelope thinks she did. She saw Stella getting something out of my eye – I had been inspecting the renovations to one of the court rooms and I got some dust or something in it – and then the next thing I know Penelope's screaming about trust and relationships and … and she called me _boring_." Percy stuck a hand in his pocket and pulled out a ring. It sat on the palm of his hand, glinting in the light from the candle on the mantelpiece. Dusk was falling rapidly and Harry could smell a delicious meal from the cauldron on the stove but everything else faded away as he stared at the ring, the symbol of love that Percy had given Penelope.

"She gave it back," Percy said quietly. None of them said anything. Harry felt an odd sort of sympathy for Percy. He knew what it was like to be ignored by the girl of your dreams but he knew it would hurt a million times worse if she rejected you on that level.

Just then Molly came bustling in. Percy snapped his hand shut and pocketed the ring before studiously taking a sip from his glass. Molly had obviously been upstairs, judging by the overflowing laundry hamper she was carrying, but Harry hadn't heard her tread on the stairs. She stopped short when she saw them.

"Percy! Harry! What are you boys doing here?" she exclaimed dropping the basket. "Is everything all right at Hogwarts, Harry?" Harry cursed himself inwardly at the look of terror on the woman's face.

"Its fine, Ginny's fine," he said hurriedly. "I came home to visit Teddy."

"Oh," said Molly, retrieving the laundry hamper. "Well it's wonderful to see you dear." She patted his shoulder as she walked past and into the laundry.

"What's for tea, Mum?" asked Ron lazily as he leant back in his chair. Molly half turned and smiled at her sons. She shook her head slightly.

"It was going to be just me and your father," she said before disappearing into the small room. She emerged a moment later without the hamper. "So it was a simple stew."

"There is nothing simple about your stews, Mother," said Percy, still leaning his head on one hand. "They are a work of art."

"Oh you are a flatterer," she skittered, fluttering a hand at Percy. "I'll have to expand it somewhat for the three of you though. You are staying, aren't you Percy?" Percy nodded silently.

"I don't have any place else to be," he said glumly. Molly moved forward to pat his shoulder.

"You always have a place here, Percy," she said. "This is your home." Harry was suddenly embarrassed that he had turned up unannounced.

"I'm sorry I didn't let you know-" he started but Molly cut him off immediately.

"Stop!" she said fiercely. Her face softened as she looked at Harry. "You are always welcome, dear. That's what home means." She squeezed Percy's shoulder as she said it before turning away and busying herself at the sink and bustling back and forth from the scullery to the sink with vegetables. Harry's embarrassment faded and he felt a sort of warmth spread through his chest as he watched Molly enlarge the cauldron and begin adding things to it.

"So when's Bill coming?" asked Ron after a moment.

"Bill's coming?" asked Molly absently, spelling the knives to scrape, chop and peel.

"Yeah, to talk to me about this werewolf legislation thing," said Harry.

"Will he be here for tea?" asked Molly shooting a jet of water into the cauldron with her wand and setting a spoon to stirring it.

"I don't know," answered Harry. "I didn't think to ask."

"Never mind. Ron, Floo your brother, see if he wants tea," Molly commanded, searching the spice rack and pulling down a large jar of something green and dried that looked uncomfortably like potions ingredients. Ron grumbled but shuffled to his feet and did as he was asked.

Bill and Fleur accepted the invitation and Molly had Harry and Percy set the table and by time Arthur Apparated into the backyard they were ready to sit down and eat. Arthur proclaimed that seeing Harry was a lovely surprise and Fleur kissed him on both cheeks and he managed to blush spectacularly like he hadn't in years. The family sat down to eat and the silence over George's whereabouts was palpable. Percy was glum and spoke only to ask for the pepper but Fleur carried on a cheery conversation about her work at Gringotts. Well it was almost a conversation and would have been if anyone had answered her.

Ron ate as though he'd not had a good meal in a week, Molly played with her food and Arthur nodded absently to Fleur as he ate and looked over some of the paperwork next to his plate. Harry looked up and caught Bill's eye and he could see the worry there. Bill smiled tentatively at Harry but it didn't reach his eyes.

"- and so I said to zee goblins, I will not carry out these tasks for you! You should make zee new girl do eet! She iz smaller zan me and will fit down zere much easier!" Fleur let out a tinkling peal of laughter and there was a chorus of half-hearted laughs but Harry very much doubted that anyone knew what was so funny. Fleur fell silent and the only sound was the rustling of Arthur's parchment and the clink of silverware against the dishes. Harry shifted uneasily as he ate. Bill cleared his throat.

"So, how's the first week been, Harry?" he asked. "Have you had a Defence class yet?" Harry swallowed his mouthful of stew hastily.

"Um, yeah, it was two days ago," he said.

"Did it go all right?" Bill prodded.

"Um, well I guess so," Harry mumbled, looking at his stew, suddenly fascinated by the pieces of carrot floating in it.

"Go on, tell him about that Slytherin kid you wiped the floor with," interjected Ron.

"Harry?" Arthur piped up suddenly. "Were you duelling?" Arthur looked concernedly at Harry, his eyebrows slightly raised.

"Erm …" was Harry's only response.

"Oh come on, Dad," said Ron. "It was just a specky, Slytherin git."

"That is not the point, Ronald," said Arthur icily. "Why does the floor need to be wiped with anyone in a classroom? How does that make Hogwarts any different to last year? I must say-"

"He threw a curse at Ginny," Harry blurted and immediately regretted it when Molly dropped her spoon with a deafening clang against the side of her bowl.

"He what?" asked Bill, leaning forward, his eyes furious.

"I was ignoring him," said Harry. "He had his wand on me but then he turned it on Ginny and when I threw up a shield charm he started firing over the whole room. Neville couldn't hold a shield over everyone forever so I … took him out." Harry finished weakly.

"What are those vicious little animals doing pulling wands on other students in that school!" exploded Molly suddenly. "Enough! No more!" Harry didn't know what to say as Arthur reached over to grasp Molly's arm firmly.

"No," she shook his hand off, her eyes blazing fiercely. "Why are my children still in danger?"

"Molly-"

"It's supposed to be all over, it's not supposed to still keep happening!" said Molly, her voice rising as she spoke. "They're supposed to be _safe_! I want them home!"

"Ginny's safe, Mum," said Ron. "Harry's there."

"Who's looking after Harry?" screeched Molly, turning to Ron suddenly. Ron snorted loudly.

"If there's one thing Harry can do, it's take care of himself," he said, laughing.

"Then how did he end up in the Hospital Wing?" asked Molly coldly. Ron gulped. "Don't think Professor McGonagall didn't Floo me." She turned to Harry who shrank down in his chair. He could sense she was about to coddle him.

"Leave him alone, Mum," said Bill idly. "He's a grown man." Molly sighed heavily and Arthur patted her arm.

"I'm okay," said Harry. "Really I was only there for maybe … an hour."

"I know, I know," said Molly. "It's just … I worry."

"Well, let's worry about George," said Ron suddenly, harshly. The pain that crossed Molly's face was raw and palpable. Bill flinched and Arthur closed his eyes and rubbed his hand across his forehead.

"What's wrong with George?" asked Percy idly, stirring his stew.

"Oh, have you forgotten?" snarled Ron sarcastically. "Let me refresh your memory. OUR BROTHER DIED!" Molly covered her face with her hands. Ron's face was red with fury and Fleur was pale, her eyes swivelling from Ron to Percy and back again.

"I know," said Percy quietly. "I was there." Ron subsided a little.

"George is not doing well, is he?" asked Bill. Ron shook his head.

"He's moved from womanising to drinking," replied Ron.

"Where is he now?" inquired Fleur. Ron shrugged and pushed his plate away resting his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

"We thought he was at the pub," Harry volunteered.

"Found this one instead," said Ron, raising his head and jerking his thumb at Percy. "Maudlin drunk he was."

"Why, Percy?" asked Molly suddenly, dropping her hands and eyeing her third son. Percy looked down at his plate.

"Penelope …" he trailed off.

"Is she all right?" questioned Arthur carefully.

"Probably," shrugged Percy carelessly. "She left and seemed quite happy to do so."

"Oh Percy," sighed Molly. She got up and engulfed her son in a hug. She pulled back a little and took his face in her hands, examining him carefully. "I didn't realise. I didn't ask why you were here. I just … I don't even know how my own children are." Percy looked at his mother for a moment and Harry saw a glistening tear and roll down his cheek.

"I miss her," he said and his mother folded him into a hug, holding him as sobs wracked his body.

"Harry," said Bill softly, indicating they should move into the lounge room.

"I weel clean up ze table," Fleur said softly. She began sending the dirty dishes on the table to the sink. Arthur sat quietly at the head of the table staring into space and smoothing the edges of his stack of parchment. Harry followed Bill out of the kitchen, Ron on their heels.

Once in the lounge room Bill began pacing back and forth in front of the window. The curtains were not yet drawn and Harry could see the stars and moon which was nearly full. Bill stopped pacing abruptly and turned to face Harry, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

"This Brown fellow wants to regulate werewolves and anyone who's been attacked or influenced in any way," he said. "Reckons 'those so influenced' can't be trusted and says they need to be institutionalised to keep everyone safe. He wants to lock me up in case I go nuts at the full moon."

"But that's …"

"The day after tomorrow," said Bill raggedly, running a hand through his hair as he turned to look out of the window. The moonlight cast eerie shadows on his face across his scars. "Brown had one of his goons in the MLE come down to Gringotts while I was at work yesterday and ask me all sorts of … personal questions. They asked Fleur … I found out later, they asked her … about our sexual activity." Bill finished in a hurry and stopped, flushed and embarrassed.

"What's that got to do with anything?" asked Ron.

"I don't know," Bill shrugged. "Fleur was so angry she wasn't making much sense but I think it was questions about if I got violent. She was spewing forth a string of French obscenities that I think said something about perversion." Ron snorted.

"Can they lock you up?" asked Harry. Bill shook his head.

"Not yet, no law that says they can," Bill sighed heavily and continued quietly. "If I had kids they would try and take them away. We were going to try for a family soon but … I can't do that until this is settled. I won't have my children taken away. I can't."

"Teddy," murmured Harry. He looked up at Bill suddenly. "They want to take Teddy don't they?" Bill nodded slowly.

"Andromeda threw them off the property yesterday," he confirmed. "She sent Kreacher to Grimmauld Place with Teddy until they were gone."

"Yesterday?" questioned Harry. He was scared and incensed. He didn't know which emotion was stronger and thought he might be in shock. "Yesterday? And no one thought to tell me y_esterday_? Where the hell is Kingsley?"

"Well they can't take Teddy," soothed Bill. "He wasn't in any danger, Andromeda just sent him away as a precaution."

"I'm his godfather!" shouted Harry. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"I sent a message to the Headmistress," added Bill. "She didn't say anything?"

"Only to tell me in a very roundabout way to come see Teddy this weekend," admitted Harry. He paused. "But this is why, isn't it?"

"Probably," agreed Bill. Harry sat down abruptly and rubbed a hand over his face wearily.

"Kingsley's in Spain," came Arthur's voice from the doorway. "Meeting with Spain's Minister. He's coming back early tomorrow so he can be here before the full moon. We're drafting interim orders to pass tomorrow morning. There's an emergency session of the Wizengamot and Kingsley plans to have it all in place before Brown can act."

"But what does this Brown fellow want?" he asked. "Why is he doing this exactly?" Arthur sat down opposite him.

"You know his niece, Lavender, who was attacked by Greyback at … on that day," Arthur stumbled slightly. "She wasn't hurt at all but he scared her pretty badly and she's been having some pretty bad reactions during the Full Moon thinking that he's going to come and get her as a full werewolf this time."

"So Brown thinks if he locks up anyone who's got any sort of vague connection to a werewolf …" Harry trailed off.

"Why can't we just tell Lavender that Greyback's locked up and can't hurt her?" asked Ron.

"Because he isn't and she knows it," answered Bill quietly. Harry looked up at him in shock. "He got away. They thought they had him but …" he shook his head.

"So how is locking up anyone who's been breathed on by a werewolf going to help?" asked Harry sarcastically.

"I think people are just afraid, Harry," said Arthur softly. "Brown thinks it's safer to regulate werewolf influences if he has control over them."

"Well no one is taking Teddy," said Harry fiercely. "You shouldn't take babies away from people who love them - from their family." He didn't even bother to leave the house before he Apparated straight into Andromeda's front parlour. He knew it was bad manners but he didn't care too much for manners just then.

Andromeda was sitting in a worn rocking chair near the window; Teddy curled up in her arms, staring up at the moon. She gave a startled squeak when Harry arrived suddenly in the middle of the room.

"I wondered when you would come," she said as she stood up carefully, trying not to jostle the baby in her arms. She didn't seem upset that he had barged his way in or that he had shown up unannounced. Andromeda crossed the room and stood in front of Harry with her grandson in her arms.

"I – I'm sorry," Harry whispered as he gazed down at the tuft of turquoise hair that poked out from the top of Teddy's blanket. "I should have … I needed to see him." Andromeda nodded and reached out to put the baby in Harry's arms. She patted his shoulder as she walked out of the room.

Harry sank into the rocking chair and settled Teddy on his chest. Teddy let out a shuddering little sigh in his sleep and cuddled into Harry's jumper. The tuft of hair on his head turned black and Harry smiled as he ran a finger softly over the fuzzy head. _He knows I'm here_, thought Harry. _He knows it's me_.

******************

Harry woke to find himself draped in a blanket. The curtains had been drawn and most of the candles had been snuffed out. The fire glowed softly in the grate behind the fireguard. Teddy was gone but a soft light beckoned Harry towards the kitchen where he found Andromeda rocking Teddy as Kreacher prepared a bottle.

Harry watched for a while as a purple haired Teddy raised a pudgy little hand to grab Andromeda's nose and play with her lips as she sang him a gentle song. Teddy smiled a toothless gummy grin and let out a little squeal before turning his hair black. Andromeda laughed and turned to look at Harry.

"Good evening Sleeping Beauty," she said. Harry smiled sheepishly and reached out to grasp Teddy's hand which went straight into the baby's mouth.

"Ouch!" he yelped. Andromeda laughed.

"There's a tooth in there somewhere," she said, "ready to break through. He's been a little unsettled." Harry held out his hands and his godson lurched towards him. His grandmother surrendered him and Harry took a moment to kiss his soft baby skin and hold him close. Fat little fingers grabbed at his hair and a drooling, slobbery mouth latched onto his chin. Harry grimaced slightly before pulling Teddy away. The baby lunged for Harry's robes, grasping a fistful and chewing on it urgently.

"Poor little thing," said Andromeda. "He's chewing everything, stopped sleeping through the night. It's hard to tell when he needs pain relief; he can't tell me when the potion's wearing off. All I can do is hold him." She reached out to stroke his downy head as Teddy twisted in Harry's grasp, on fist stuffed in his mouth and drool dripping from it like long silky tendrils.

"Master Teddy is wanting his bottle," said Kreacher suddenly.

"Can I give it to him?" asked Harry.

"Oh would you?" Andromeda exclaimed. "He's been so fussy lately. I spend all my time holding him and it would be a lovely break." Harry settled into a chair and took the bottle Kreacher held out to him. Teddy took it eagerly and Harry suddenly felt an overwhelming gratitude for Andromeda, who cared for Teddy so carefully, so completely. His throat closed up and his eyes stung with tears.

"Thank you," he sad through the fog of emotion, "thank you for taking care of Teddy; for _loving_ him."

"How could I do anything else?" asked Andromeda softly.

"Not everyone would," was all Harry said as he watched Teddy's fingers curl around his own. The baby's eyes fluttered shut as he suckled and Harry pressed another kiss to his soft baby skin.

"They're not taking him away,' Andromeda said suddenly. "I won't let him be raised by people who don't care, who are afraid of him or who won't treat him the way Remus and Dora would have." Harry looked up at her. His own childhood ran like a silent film in front of him. He shook his head to rid himself of the images.

"If something happens to me," said Andromeda, clutching his arm tightly, "please look after Teddy. You have to. He needs to be loved, he needs a family." Harry nodded.

"They won't get away with this," he said as he removed the empty bottle and stroked the cheek of the sleeping baby. "This sort of prejudice can't go on. I'm going to the Ministry tomorrow. No one is taking my godson away from you. They are not taking him away from his family."

"You're his family too," said Andromeda softly. Harry smiled.

"Thanks," he replied. "I think he's asleep."

"I'll put him to bed," said Andromeda carefully taking the sleeping infant from Harry's arms. "Hopefully he'll sleep for a few hours."

"Can I come back tomorrow?" blurted Harry suddenly, feeling bereft.

"You don't have to ask, Harry," she said. "You don't have to ask."


	31. Chapter 31

**31. Past Pain**

Harry kicked at a tin can that was rolling along the gutter as he ambled slowly up the street. He was moving slower and slower with every step as if he could stave off the inevitable by going so slowly he would never get there. However, as he drew level with Number Four, Harry knew he had only been putting off the confrontation he knew was coming. There was no ignoring the incessant nudge his conscience was getting. The tin can rolled away suddenly, making a hollow sound as it rolled halfway into the road and stopped there, rolling back and forth as if pulled by invisible strings on both sides, like two formless fairies were playing tug-o-war.

He saw the curtain in Number Four twitch as he started up the path to the front door. He paused. Harry knew that if he did not do this now, now that he was here, he would never do it. There was a definite appeal in that course of action. He could turn around, go back to where he came from and never return. Harry sighed heavily and trudged the last few steps up onto the porch and rang the front doorbell.

He looked down at the pristine doormat under his feet. The word WELCOME was plastered across the bristly surface but Harry had never felt so unwelcome in all his life. He studied the tiling on the doorstep. He'd been left here. Hagrid had brought him here. Hagrid had taken him away from here. He didn't want to come back here. The memories weren't pleasant and of all the things the Death Eaters had done they couldn't manage the one thing he would have gladly thanked them for: annihilating this place.

Harry clutched the plastic shopping bag in his left hand tighter and stared at a small, circular hole drilled neatly into the door frame. No, not drilled, nailed. It was a nail hole. After all this time there was still a hole where a nail had forced it's way to the outside when Uncle Vernon had nailed the door shut to stop his Hogwarts letter getting in. Harry reached out to touch it but pulled his hand back abruptly as the door jerked open. Aunt Petunia stood on the other side, her face paler than he had ever seen it and her eyes darting about frantically.

"What are you doing?" she hissed at him. "Get inside before someone sees you!"

"Is Dudley here?" Harry asked instead.

"Yes," Aunt Petunia answered quickly. "Now get _off_ that doorstep!"

"Can I see him?" asked Harry shortly.

"What for?"

"He's my cousin," said Harry plainly, "and I would like to see him." Aunt Petunia huffed and turned towards the interior of the house.

"Dudders!" she called sweetly, because the door was still open and her voice could be heard by Mrs Pennington who was sitting in her lounge room at Number Two, with her head out the window. "You have a visitor!" Harry heard Dudley grumble and then a noise like a herd of wildebeest as Dudley thumped out of his bedroom and along the upstairs corridor. Footsteps thudded like drum beats, punctuating his every word as he plodded down the stairs.

"What?" Dudley called. "What is it now, woman?" Harry stifled a smirk. Aunt Petunia pressed her lips into a line so thin her bloodless lips vanished entirely.

"Harry is here," she hissed out of the corner of her mouth, looking extremely unladylike. Dudley nearly tripped as he ran down the remaining stairs and pushed his mother aside as he reached the doorway. He reached out a beefy arm and pulled Harry inside into a brief one-armed hug. Harry stood on the hall runner as stiff as a board and in more than a little shock at Dudley's actions.

"I've been asking Deddie about you for months!" he exclaimed, carelessly banging the door shut, making Aunt Petunia wince.

"Deddie?" asked Harry, bemused.

"Yeah," shrugged Dudley. "Dedalus is a bit … well … it's a bit of an odd name."

"I just wanted to come and let you know that … it's finished," said Harry. "But yeah, you know that, huh, seeing as you're back here and … not in hiding any more." Dudley nodded vigorously.

"Was a right creepy house we were in, full of other magical refugees and that," said Dudley. "Reckon it had rooms without doors and doors without rooms."

"Completely unnatural," muttered Aunt Petunia.

"Oh come on you liked that Chumley woman," said Dudley rolling his eyes. Harry stiffened at the way Dudley so casually threw the name out.

"Well she was _normal_ wasn't she," sniffed Aunt Petunia. "Nothing hocus-pocus about her."

"Good kids though," said Dudley, "although that older one was stuck up a bit." Harry turned away so Dudley couldn't see his smirk. His eyes fell on a photograph sitting on the tiny hall table. It was one he had never seen before. He was used to pictures of the fat, blond baby in bobbled hats and garish jumpers but this one was of two little girls. It was black and white, cracked and yellowing. The older child was unmistakably Aunt Petunia with the same horsey face, all angles. The chubby baby sitting next to her had wispy curls on her head and big eyes that matched her laughing smile as she clutched a tiny teddy bear. Harry reached out a hand to the photograph and jumped, snatching his hand back as if scalded when Aunt Petunia spoke.

"We found that in the house," she said quietly. Harry looked up.

"Deddie's really smart," chimed in Dudley. "He made it so we could see it. Dad didn't come of course, said it was all a bunch of hokey-pokey, but me and Mum went."

"Went where?" asked Harry in a strangled voice, staring at the picture.

"That house where your mum and dad got … er, where you lived as a baby," stammered Dudley.

"When did you go there?" Harry asked in a hollow voice as he stared at the baby picture of his mother in a gilt frame on his aunt's hall table.

"Oh … maybe, about six weeks ago," said Dudley, he looked as if he were thinking hard. Harry wondered if Dudley was about to strain himself.

"Why?" blurted Harry. He was reeling and didn't know what to make of this sort of information and he wanted so badly to pick that photograph up and leave.

"I expect because Dudley wouldn't leave him alone," said Aunt Petunia in a tight voice. "Unnatural fascination …"

"I wanted to know what happened," said Dudley. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet nervously. "Gilbert, that's the little Chumley kid, good kid he is, he reckoned you was a hero told me a bunch of stories and … have you _been_ there?" Harry nodded.

"At Christmas," he whispered in a strangled tone.

"There was a drawer," said Dudley, glancing at his mother. "It was hanging open and I could see this sort of yellowy square hanging out of it. It was an envelope and it had that photo in it." Dudley indicated the picture on the hall table.

"So you took it?" asked Harry coldly, turning on Aunt Petunia suddenly.

"I-I didn't have any of her any more," Aunt Petunia stammered. "I burnt them all." Harry glared at her.

"That house is _not_ yours and it's your own fault if you burnt them," he said slowly and deliberately. "You had no right to even go there." Aunt Petunia refused to look at him and fixed her eyes on a picture of Dudley in his Smeltings uniform hanging on the wall behind his head.

"Harry," said Dudley quietly. Harry turned to look at him. Dudley was holding a large, thick parchment envelope in his hand. The door to the cupboard under the stairs was swinging gently. Harry hadn't even seen him go in there. Dudley extended the parchment envelope to Harry, who took it with a shaking hand.

"There's another one in there," he said. Harry wrestled with his plastic shopping bag to peer inside the envelope. A bundle of photographs, creased and yellow with age, nestled in the corner of the envelope. Harry took a deep breath and closed it again before putting the envelope in his shopping bag. He wasn't going to look at them there, standing inhospitably in the hallway with Aunt Petunia looking as though she'd rather swallow a whole lemon and Dudley looking … friendly.

"Thanks," he murmured, looking for a way out, wishing that he'd never come; while at the same time almost feeling the envelope burning a hole through the shopping bag and knowing it held some great treasure he knew he wanted more than anything.

"Vernon will be home any minute," Aunt Petunia said suddenly. She wanted him to leave and the feeling was mutual so Harry took a step back towards the door.

"I, erm, thank you," he said stiffly. "I'll um, if I … ah when I …"

"It was good to see you, Harry," said Dudley quietly. "Deddie reckons you've got lots to keep you busy and all, so um if you get the chance to send a letter or two ... well I'll be at Police College but Mum'll be able to send 'em on."

"Police College?" asked Harry, one eyebrow raised. Dudley nodded enthusiastically.

"I got to talking to Deddie and some fellow he brought around sometimes," he said animatedly. "Reckon he was some sort of Law Enforcement. Really helped me sort out what I want to do with my life, you know. I sat the entrance exam in July, start next week up at Hendon. I'm going to be a _Bobbie_, Harry!" Dudley seemed to be bouncing on his toes excitedly. Harry stared at him for a moment before nodding his head.

"Well congratulations then, Dudley," he said. "I um … had better get going. Um, thanks."

"Oh hey, Harry," Dudley said as he reached to open the door, "d'you reckon you could send some of those flavour beans, erm, next time you get a chance? Absolutely brilliant those are. I mean, chocolate frogs are nice and all but the jumping is a little creepy." Harry nodded dumbly as he stepped onto the porch.

"I'll see you later then," he said, standing on the doormat. Harry could see Uncle Vernon's car turning into the street. It was a new car, probably a company car, but it was immensely shiny and Harry could see his Uncle's massive bulk taking up space behind the wheel. No one else was out on Privet Drive, the sun was sinking and it was getting cold.

"Yeah I'll send you a postcard from Hendon, if I can figure out how to get me hands on an Owl!" said Dudley cheerfully. Harry looked past him to Aunt Petunia and the photo on the little hall table and made a decision.

"Thanks Big D," Harry smiled before throwing a cheeky grin at his Aunt and turning on the spot, Disapparating just as Uncle Vernon pulled into the driveway. Harry arrived at the Burrow chuckling and strolled up to the back door. He was just about to open it when someone inside yanked it open and glared at him fiercely. Harry's smile faltered.

"Hello Bill," he said warily.

"Where have you _been_?" questioned Bill. "It's been hours since we were at the Ministry!" Harry shrugged.

"I went out," he said evasively. Bill eyed him suspiciously but kept silent. He stepped back so that Harry could come inside. Harry edged inside warily and Bill shut the door behind him. The kitchen was warm and smelled inviting.

"Harry!" cried Molly from where she was stirring something on the stove. She hurried over and grasped his arms, looking intently into his eyes. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," answered Harry, drawing his brows together.

"When you didn't turn up this afternoon, Andromeda fire-called," Molly said. "Ron and Arthur have gone to look for you."

"I'll just send Dad and Ron a Patronus, let them know you came home," said Bill. Harry saw that Bill's hands were shaking as he gripped the back of a chair. "We've been worried. I know it didn't go very well this morning but-"

"That's an understatement," muttered Harry putting his plastic shopping bag on the table and running a hand through his hair. He turned to see an indistinct silvery shape go sailing through the kitchen wall. "They might not be able to take Teddy today but the Wizengamot didn't seem all that eager to make it permanent."

"It was only ever going to be an interim order," said Bill helplessly. "The fight's not over and it won't be for months."

"Someone has to talk some sense into this Brown character," said Harry. "You're not dangerous and Teddy's not dangerous. You're not even werewolves!"

"I know," said Bill gripping his shoulder. "We will win this fight; we just can't win it today."

"Why not?" demanded Harry. "It seems pretty straightforward to me. I mean, Kingsley's the Minister, why can't he just … tell them?"

"That would be dictating just like … before," answered Bill. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared out the window. "Just like Voldemort."

"Most of the Wizengamot seemed to think it was a good idea to tighten controls," said Harry bitterly.

"We can turn them around, Harry," said Bill urgently. He spun around to face Harry. "With proper research and a well-prepared case we can make this resolution permanent and watertight. We can't give up."

"Do you really think we can?" asked Harry. "Make it permanent, I mean? Make it so you are safe; so Teddy is safe?"

"I think we can," answered Bill. "We have to."

"I can't believe they didn't listen to you," huffed Molly banging a cauldron onto the stove forcefully. "You're Harry Potter!" Harry grimaced and Molly shot a jet of water from her wand into the pot. She might have put a bit too much power behind it because the water splashed out of the pot and sizzled on the flames underneath the cauldron. Bill chuckled softly.

"I'd better get home to Fleur. Everything all right then, Harry?" asked Bill.

"Yeah I just, I had to go somewhere," answered Harry avoiding Bill's gaze. Harry stared at the plastic shopping bag. The parchment envelope was inside. His fingers itched to open it but he didn't want to do it here; it needed to be somewhere private. He had no idea what or who was in those photographs or even if they _were_ all photographs. He didn't have a chance to excuse himself to go and look at it because Ron and Arthur burst through the door at that moment, Ron skidding hurriedly to a stop in front of Harry.

"Where have you been, you git?" Ron shouted at him. "I thought you were going to see Teddy? Don't you _ever_ make me have to tell Ginny you're missing! You can't go wandering off like that! People want a piece of you. I'm surprised you don't have bodyguards! If you're going to go wandering off all the time maybe you need a minder!" Harry took a step back as Arthur put a calming hand on Ron's arm.

"I just went shopping," Harry said. "I needed to go shopping."

"I didn't see you in Diagon Alley," said Ron suspiciously.

"No, Muggle shopping," explained Harry patiently. He stifled a chuckle as he saw Arthur prick up his ears. "I told Ginny I'd bring back a Monopoly set for our Muggle Studies assignment. I'm also supposed to bring her chocolate. Not only do I not know why she will need it next week, but Muggle chocolate is so confusing. I couldn't just buy a simple chocolate frog; no they had about four different kinds of chocolate frog to choose from! How am I supposed to know which ones she'd like?"

"You can't get her chocolate frogs!" exclaimed Ron, poking at the plastic bag. He jumped when it crackled.

"Why not? She likes chocolate frogs," said Harry extracting the Monopoly game from the shopping bag, grateful that everyone had forgotten to ask him where he'd been all afternoon. "You're just jealous because she has more cards than you now."

"She can't count yours," said Ron, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"I gave them to her," argued Harry.

"Only so she could say she had more than me!"

"Boys," said Molly mildly, elbowing Ron aside so she could set some plates on the table. They settled with a quiet clank as she waved her wand to levitate the forks over.

"Anyway, you can't give her chocolate frogs," said Ron with an air of finality as he turned the Monopoly box over.

"Definitely not," said Bill. He winked at Ron. "I'd better be off then. See you all later. I'll be in touch, Harry." Bill left and Harry turned to Ron exasperatedly.

"Say what you like," he said. "I'll get some chocolate frogs in the morning before I go back. We have lost all the Agrippa cards and the one of that wizard who invented Drooble's. Maybe we can replace them." Ron shook his head and muttered something that sounded like 'no clue'.

After they had eaten, Harry left the Monopoly set with Ron and Arthur who were determined to figure the game out. Molly shook her head indulgently at them and Harry excused himself to borrow Pigwidgeon. After he sent Ginny a note explaining the situation and letting her know he wouldn't be back until the next day, he went to visit Teddy. Andromeda didn't seem at all displeased at the temporary nature of the orders Kingsley had secured that morning.

"Oh there's still a way to go," she said as she bustled about the kitchen while Harry bounced Teddy on his lap and pulled faces at the baby to make him laugh. "They won't be able to just barge in and take him though. You don't know how much that relieves my mind." Teddy squealed and grabbed at Harry's nose. Harry gave him a small rubber duck as a distraction.

"Well the fight's not over," he said, looking up at Andromeda. "I'm not stopping until it is and his future will be secure." Andromeda smiled at him fondly before breaking out into peals of laughter. Harry looked down at Teddy who had managed to transform his nose into a replica of the bill on the yellow rubber duck that was now lying on the floor. Teddy was straining to get to the toy, his hair sticking up in black spiky tufts and his face gradually going yellow.

"Hufflepuff, huh?" Harry asked his godson as he bent down to retrieve the duck. "Well, all right then. If you aren't going to be a Gryffindor like your dad, the least you can do is be a 'Puff like your mum." Teddy stopped trying to twist to the floor and looked up at Harry with eyes that resembled Tonks's and a duck's bill for a nose. Harry stayed absolutely still as Teddy stared at him.

"She used to do that all the time," he whispered to Teddy eventually. "Ginny used to laugh because she could turn it into a pig's snout as well. I think the pig snout looks better with pink hair. You've got her eyes you know." Harry's breath caught in his throat and he heard Andromeda sniff but he couldn't take his eyes away from Teddy's gaze.

"Gah," said Teddy solemnly.

"I've got my mum's eyes," Harry continued as the duck's bill faded and Teddy's own nose reappeared. Harry ran a hand through Teddy's soft hair. "And my dad's hair, but you've definitely got your mum's hair and her nose." Teddy reached a pudgy hand up to grab at Harry's cheek where a lone tear rolled down.

"Buh," said Teddy.

"No one told me, you know," said Harry. "I didn't know until I was … at Hogwarts. I didn't know I had my mum's eyes and my dad's hair. I got my knobbly knees from him, too. No one told me." Harry paused and traced Teddy's face tenderly. Teddy grabbed at his finger.

"Nuhmg," murmured Teddy and tried to chew on Harry's finger.

"You look just like her," Harry murmured. "She had a heart-shaped face, just like you, and she liked to turn her hair pink. But I hope you get your dad's sense of balance because hers was terrible, always tripping over things. She was brilliant on a broomstick, though. One day, I'll teach you how to fly. Your dad was a great teacher. I really miss them." Harry didn't try to stop the tears that began to stream down his face. Teddy reached up to catch the tears that dripped from the end of Harry's nose.

"Harry …" said Andromeda gently. Harry looked up at her. Her eyes were red rimmed but she was smiling at him.

"I'm sorry, I just …" he trailed off and looked down at Teddy who was still gazing up at him intently. Andromeda reached out and smoothed Harry's hair before patting his cheek gently the way Molly often did.

"That's all right, Harry," she said. "Don't ever stop telling Teddy about them. He's so much like his mother, some days it hurts just to look at him. But he's got his father's determination. They made the right choice when they chose you to be his godfather." Andromeda dropped her hand to stroke Teddy's cheek.

"I never knew how much he looked like Tonks before," said Harry.

"That's because he always tries to look like you," murmured Andromeda as she moved away to set out the tea things. "He is so much like his mother." Harry stared for a moment.

"He is, isn't he?" he said suddenly. "He's like his _mother_." Andromeda looked at him curiously as she took two teacups out of a cupboard in the corner.

"Why do you sound excited about that?" she asked. Harry smiled at Teddy and tickled his tummy.

"Because if we argue this thing right, that could make all the difference," he said. "All your dad gave you was your determination, hey little guy?" Andromeda stood motionless in front of the cupboard.

"You could be right, Harry," was all she said, but her eyes sparkled with what Harry decided to call hope; and Teddy squealed and laughed.

"Where did you go this afternoon?" asked Ron later that night as the two of them lay in bed. Harry turned his head to face Ron. The full moon bathed the world in dim light which poured between the curtains and into the room. Ron was watching Harry closely.

"I told you, Muggle shopping," Harry answered, hoping he sounded casual and not like his heart was beating faster than the Hogwarts Express. Ron raised an eyebrow at him.

"Then why are you more jittery than Pig?" he asked Harry. "What are you hiding?" Harry turned his face back to the ceiling.

"Nothing," he replied thinking of the thick parchment envelope at the bottom of his bag. He kept wondering if he should just look at its contents but he hadn't been able to bring himself to do it. He'd never had something so important and so precious that he was so utterly terrified of.

"Well if you won't tell me, make sure you tell Ginny," grunted Ron. Harry heard the bedcovers rustle as Ron turned over. He lay in the dim light from the full moon thinking about the werewolf legislation, Teddy, and the envelope in his bag. Ron had unwittingly hit on the answer to Harry's dilemma over the mysterious envelope – Harry needed to share it with Ginny; he couldn't open it until she was with him in case … in case he needed her. He suddenly ached to be near her, morning couldn't come fast enough.

***************

Harry arrived back at Hogwarts late on Sunday afternoon to find Dean and Seamus sitting idly on the steps of the Entrance Hall. There was a sprinkling of students on the lawn and Neville was muttering to himself as he walked along the path towards them. He was covered in dirt and clutched a tattered book that he was feverishly flipping through.

"Harry!" called Seamus. Harry raised a hand in greeting and jogged up the steps to join them.

"Hello," he said, flopping down beside Dean, dropping his bags carelessly on the top step.

"How is it on the outside?" asked Dean, idly scraping at the gaps in the stone steps.

"Ron says hello," said Harry, watching Dean's fingers go back and forth, digging a small sharp pebble into the groove between two stones. "What are you doing?" Dean looked up, startled. His eyes drifted back down to the gritty dust now littering the step. He brushed it away hurriedly.

"There was this dark spot … in the grout," said Dean shakily. "I th-think it was blood and I was getting rid of it." No one said anything as Neville sank onto the steps beside them.

Harry watched a group of first years running through the hedges on the edge of the lawn and a small clutch of second years, probably coming back from the Quidditch pitch with their broomsticks. The sun beat down on the children as they played, clouds scudding across the deep expanse of blue.

"It's a great day," said Neville eventually. "It'll be getting cold soon."

"We weren't allowed outside last year," said Seamus softly. "Not really. Could go to the courtyards and the greenhouses but not really much place else. Stopped the greenhouse visits too eventually."

"It's good they can play outside," said Neville. Dean suddenly swiped at the dust he'd created on the step, sending it fluttering into the air where it twirled around, some of it falling back to the steps and the rest blown away on the wind.

"D'you think we'll ever be free of it?" asked Seamus. "D'you think it'll ever go away?"

"It'll fade," said Neville. "Scars fade."

"Not all of them," said Harry distantly drawing his knees up to his chest and staring out towards the Forbidden Forest. A heavy silence fell over the group. It wasn't oppressive, but it lingered, teasing them and daring them to try and chase it away. Harry took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"So, where's Luna then?" asked Seamus suddenly.

"She's helping Audrey avoid you, you great prat," grinned Neville. "Honestly I haven't seen anyone try and avoid you so much since Lavender after the Yule Ball!"

"Lavender avoiding you, that's serious mate," chortled Dean. "Not many blokes she willingly avoids."

"Shut up," said Seamus giving him a shove. Dean nearly fell off the step he was perched on.

"She and Parvati have opened a shop," said Harry.

"What sort of shop?" asked Dean, kicking Seamus's shoe with his foot as he straightened himself on the step.

"I dunno," shrugged Harry. "Ron's been in. I didn't have time to go in, but it looked like Trelwaney's wardrobe had thrown up in the window."

"It's a Divination shop," said Neville. "They're selling things for Divination and if you want, they'll do a reading."

"Well, well," said Seamus, grinning. "Neville knows all about it."

"Hannah sent me an Owl," said Neville absently, still flipping through his book. Dean sat up abruptly.

"Does Luna know you're getting Owls from some other girl?" he demanded.

"What?" Neville asked, startled as he dropped his book. "Hannah's my friend."

"Oh yes, very friendly," smirked Seamus and Neville blushed violently.

"Luna understands about Hannah," Neville said, bending to pick up his book. "Luna and I understand each other just fine thank you. She's not the sort to be worried because I am _friends_ with someone."

"That's deep, mate," said Seamus, getting to his feet and dusting off the seat of his trousers. "I'm going to see Miss Audrey and see if I can't get her to ah … study with me tonight." He smirked at Neville again and swaggered off to a group of girls a short distance away, strolling across the grounds.

"Lavender's not doing well, is she?" asked Neville as they watched Seamus approach Audrey.

"No, she's not really," replied Harry as Audrey turned her back on Seamus.

"What's Lavender's problem?" enquired Dean. Audrey began to walk away. Seamus trotted after her.

Harry briefly explained what he knew as Seamus tried to grasp Audrey's arm and tripped over something, perhaps his own two feet, and went sprawling, pulling Audrey down with him. Dean narrowed his eyes in confusion at Harry's words.

"But she was all right," he insisted. Seamus lay sprawled on the grass while Audrey stood over him and berated him – she was wagging a finger at him and all.

"I know she was," replied Harry, trying not to smirk as Audrey turned her back on Seamus and stalked away. "Is it any wonder she has nightmares though?"

"I have nightmares," said Neville quietly. The three of them watched as Seamus stomped back across the grounds towards them.

"I reckon we all have nightmares," Dean acknowledged. Seamus scowled at him as he threw himself on the steps.

"_She's _a bloody nightmare," he grumbled. "Honestly."

"You giving up?"

"Nope."

**************

Harry was distracted and pensive all evening. The Monopoly set had been set up in front of the Gryffindor common room fire and the seventh years crowded around while Ginny read out the instructions. She'd greeted Harry enthusiastically earlier but they had been interrupted by several second years who had started a fight on the staircase. By the time Harry and Hermione had sent the Slytherin students to Professor Slughorn, the Gryffindors to Professor Crockwell, and the Hufflepuffs caught in the crossfire to the Hospital Wing it was time to eat. Harry saw Ginny look at him concernedly several times during the meal but he squeezed her hand and tried to smile reassuringly. His mind was racing several directions at once as he mechanically chewed his food.

He had enjoyed the freedom that going home had provided and revelled in the chance to see Ron and Teddy, but now that he was back at Hogwarts he had started to fret. Was Teddy all right? Had Bill and Fleur been further harassed? How was Lavender? He also felt mildly guilty that he'd not worried about Ginny while he'd been away. Hermione had also noticed his pensive mood and while Neville and Seamus fought over who would get to be the top hat she caught his eye and motioned to a small table under a window. Harry glanced at Ginny who was laughing at Dean and trying to hold the boot out of his reach.

"Are you going to play, Harry?" asked Neville. Harry shook his head.

"I'll give it a miss," he said quietly, looking again at Ginny.

"I'll be the banker," said Ginny surrendering the boot token. Dean raised it above his head dramatically in mock triumph. Ginny looked at Harry for a moment before nodding her head at Hermione who had moved to the small table under the window. Harry raised his eyebrows at her but Ginny just smiled and tilted her head at Hermione before handing the instructions to Neville and began counting out the paper money.

"So you throw the dice and then you move around the board and they give you money just for going around it?" asked Dennis Creevey who had been watching the older students with interest. "You do all this stuff along the way?"

"Yeah, seems like it," answered Neville absently, staring at the instructions in his hand.

"I don't get it," said Seamus sighing heavily. "Why is this a wheelbarrow?"

"It's just a token, Seamus," answered Dean. "Here, I'll show you. We used to have monopoly tournaments when I was a kid; it's my mum's favourite game." Dean launched into an explanation of Chance cards and the Community Chest. Harry quietly got up from his chair and joined Hermione at the window. He smiled slightly as he heard Dean exclaim exasperatedly that poking the 'No Parking' car with a wand wasn't going to make it go because it wasn't a magical board game.

Hermione got straight to the point.

"Pig arrived this afternoon while we were in the library," she said and looked at Harry expectantly.

"You guys should use Liberty sometimes," Harry said. "Pig will get worn out if you send him back and forth so much." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It was addressed to Ginny."

"Oh," said Harry flatly.

"Well Ron did send me- er … something also, but-"

"Bit romantic is he?" Harry asked, smirking and trying to deflect the attention from himself. Hermione arched an eyebrow at him.

"As a matter of fact, yes," she said primly and folded her hands on the table in front of her.

"Really?" deadpanned Harry. "I was being facetious."

"Oh, Ron's very romantic," said Hermione. "He sends me little notes and chocolates sometimes and he remembers to put the toothpaste in with it. Sometimes he sends me poetry. I mean I know he didn't write it, but that doesn't matter, it's the thought that counts."

"Ron sends you poetry?

"Oh yes," nodded Hermione leaning forward slightly, an unholy gleam in her eyes. "And … he knows just how to hold my hand so he doesn't squeeze it too tight and how I like him to run his fingers up my arm and he's got this thing he does where he draws little circles on my back, just up under my shirt. He's got very talented hands actually, the other day he worked out how to undo the clasp on my robes with just one hand while the other one was-"

"Stop!" yelped Harry. Hermione sat back and smirked at Harry.

"I will," she said, "if you tell me what happened this weekend that made Ron tell Ginny to look after you." Harry looked up at her solemnly. He let out a heavy sigh and stared out the window.

"Who's going to look after Ron?" he muttered under his breath.

"What's wrong with Ron?" asked Hermione. Harry looked at her; she was chewing her bottom lip and staring at him worriedly.

"Nothing," said Harry. He was not convincing. Hermione tilted her head and shook it exasperatedly. They watched each other for a moment before Harry dropped his head into his hands.

"Harry?"

"It's just that … he," Harry sighed and decided to blurt everything out. "He's trying to look after everyone. George disappeared the whole weekend. Molly doesn't even know Ron hasn't seen him since Friday lunch time."

"What?" exclaimed Hermione. "Did you look for him?" Harry shook his head.

"Apparently he does it a lot. Ron hides it from their parents so they don't worry about him," replied Harry. "Between Hannah, Rosmerta and Aberforth, Ron usually knows where he's at."

"That's awful," gasped Hermione.

"That's how it is," said Harry. "I don't think Ron realises it's not normal anymore. Penelope dumped Percy. I just … it's sort of … well I don't know why he's worrying about looking after me!" Hermione reached across the table and squeezed Harry's hand.

"He's always worried about you," said Hermione softly. "He's always looked after you. You being here is tearing him apart as much as Ginny being here is. You saw him that first day – trying to worry about everyone at once."

"Yeah, worrying about George and Ginny," sighed Harry.

"And you," added Hermione softly. "He tore Ginny apart for worrying you. So what made him Owl her?" Harry stared out the window, played with a loose thread on the hem of his shirt and inspected the initials etched on the table. He didn't even understand his own reluctance to explain how he'd spent his weekend. He needed Hermione's help and he knew it but she'd been so happy going back to school, immersing herself in study and books, involving her in another fight seemed cruel.

"Hey look Hermione I think Sirius got happy with a penknife here," he said, tracing an ornate SB that had been etched into the table top. Hermione shook her head.

"That was Cormac McClaggen with a wand in his fifth year when he fancied Susan Bones," she grinned. "Sirius carved this over here." She pointed to a neat box in the corner near the wall. Inside the box a love heart read SB 4 AP.

"I wonder who AP was?" mused Harry.

"Who knows?" said Hermione. "Who knows who he or she was or why you are so gloomy."

"He or she?" Harry raised an eyebrow. Hermione shrugged.

"Stop avoiding the question, Harry."

"Lavender Brown's uncle wants to tighten werewolf controls," said Harry eventually. "I spent Saturday morning at the Ministry listening to a bunch of pompous gits argue whether or not people who have had contact with a werewolf are a danger to themselves and others."

"No," gasped Hermione. Harry nodded grimly.

"Lavender's having nightmares or flashbacks or something," he said. "She barely leaves the house. Her uncle seems to think if he locks up anyone who has even _looked_ at a werewolf she'll get better."

"Are you exaggerating, Harry?" Hermione asked, eyebrows raised. He looked at her sheepishly. "Tell me exactly who this fellow wants to lock up."

"Well, people who've had contact with a werewolf," he began.

"Surely not," scowled Hermione. "That's going to be practically the entire magical population."

"Well … I didn't really understand everything he said -"

"Obviously," said Hermione dryly. Harry narrowed his eyes at her.

"But I _think_ it's certain kinds of contact," he said. "He had a big long list with about fifty different points."

"I don't understand," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Lavender wasn't bitten by a transformed werewolf. It was close to the full moon, sure, but it was the same as Bill …"

"Yes and they are going after Bill as well," said Harry bitterly. Hermione looked up sharply.

"Teddy?" she questioned softly. Harry nodded. "Oh Harry."

"You have got to help me, Hermione," Harry said, a little desperately. "I thought of something but I don't know if it's good enough and I can't fight this Brown guy on his level. I think he's some sort of fancy lawyer or something. He used a whole bunch of big words I don't even know the meaning of and they had like six blokes with stacks of parchments.

"They want to put Teddy in a cage every full moon—in some sort of refuge thing to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone. How will they look after him? What happens if he cries? He's just a baby, Hermione! He doesn't even have any teeth yet – although they are about to come through. He tried to bite my finger off yesterday and then he just looked up at me all innocent; looked just like Tonks did when she was trying to pretend she didn't just knock over a vase. He looks so much like her, Hermione."

"They aren't going to are they?" Hermione asked urgently as she leaned forward, her voice lowered. "Lock him up?" Harry shook his head.

"Kingsley came back from Spain," Harry started. "He managed to calm the Wizengamot down and there are interim orders and someone's supposed to do further research. But … Hermione, they are all petrified. They _want_ to pass the laws. Not just for werewolves but for anyone who's been attacked, whether it was a transformed werewolf or not, and for anyone who's parents are a werewolf … or were."

"But … wouldn't that include Lavender as well?" asked Hermione.

"Probably," shrugged Harry. "I wasn't really concerned about her, I was more worried about the fact that they want to lock my godson up in a _cage_, Hermione!" His raised voice drew a few concerned looks from the rest of the Gryffindors in the room. Ginny was watching him closely and he gave her a tight smile. She returned his look with one that said she was thinking of things to do to him later. Harry let his mid wander for just a moment as he watched Ginny methodically count out some paper notes to give to Seamus who did a little victory dance under the nose of a scowling Neville.

"What does Lavender think?" Hermione was saying when he dragged his mind back to the more pressing issue of werewolf legislation.

"She doesn't think anything," he shrugged. "I didn't speak to her." Hermione let out an exasperated huff.

"Well that just means you don't know what she thinks, not that she doesn't think anything," Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "First thing we need to do, then, is talk to Lavender."

"We?" asked Harry, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

"Of course 'we', Harry," said Hermione softly, "it'll always be 'we'." Harry smiled at her.

"Thanks Hermione," he said. He was glad she seemed satisfied he had unburdened everything that had been bothering him. He had no desire to revisit his trip to Privet Drive, revealing the parchment envelope at the bottom of his bag. He was practically terrified of it by now. The longer he put it off the more he dreaded looking inside. He also knew that it was best not to tell Hermione about it. She would nag and nag him until he opened it and faced whatever was in there; and as far as Harry was concerned, Hermione was not equipped to help him face it.

"So what happens next?" Hermione asked him expectantly.

"They've scheduled a proper hearing or whatever they call it for two week's time," answered Harry. "Brown wants something in place by the next full moon."

"Two weeks doesn't give us a lot of time," mused Hermione. She pulled a planner out of her bag and fished around for a quill. Flipping through the pages she began muttering about study schedules and getting permission to leave the grounds.

"Hermione?" Harry asked tentatively. She nodded absently. "I wanted to ask you, is being a werewolf hereditary?"

"No," Hermione shook her head. "It's like a virus or an infection. You have to be bitten – by an actual transformed werewolf."

"So there is no way Teddy is genetically a werewolf?"

"No," said Hermione. "I thought you'd read _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_?"

"That's what I thought," Harry leaned forward. "Teddy looks just like _his mother_. He has her eyes and her face and he's a metamorphmagus, not a werewolf. But even if he didn't look like her, he can't be a werewolf can he?" Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"Why would anyone need to lock up a child who isn't actually a werewolf?" she said thoughtfully before leaping out of her seat. "I need to go to the library. I'll see you later." Harry shook his head and smiled as he watched her go.

The Monopoly game was still going. Harry watched as Neville scowled while handing over what looked like all the cash he had. Dean was grinning like a Cheshire cat and Harry had no doubt he owned all the properties that had red hotels on them. Harry turned his attention to the tabletop in front of him. Years of initials and carved swirls moved across the scarred wooden surface. He traced the SB initials Hermione had pointed out, realising that they were in Sirius's handwriting. He searched the table carefully and smiled when he saw, etched carefully into one corner _'RW +HG'_. It looked like a very fresh etching. He was still searching the table when a cry went up from the table in front of the fire.

"It's not fair," Neville said plaintively. "You're Muggle-born. I bet you can play this in your sleep!" Dean was still grinning at Neville as Neville handed over what looked like every Title Deed he had.

"You may as well just have it all! I can never pay you that rent!"

"Thank you Neville," crowed Dean, organising his new properties meticulously. Ginny handed Neville the money tray.

"Here, you be the Banker, Neville," she said. Neville started to protest but then his eyes flicked to Harry and he took the tray carefully. Ginny unwound herself from the chair she had been curled up in and padded her way across the room to Harry.

"Where did Hermione go?" she asked softly as she stood in front of him.

"Library," answered Harry, "had to look something up." Ginny snorted.

"D'you think we can find something better to do?" she asked him with a grin.

"Yeah, I – there's… I need to show you something … upstairs-"

"Oh really?" Ginny raised her eyebrows suggestively and then winked at him. Harry blushed and shook his head.

"One track mind, you have," he muttered as he pushed himself out of the seat. The two of them stole wordlessly up the steps into Harry's dormitory.

Ginny bounced on Harry's bed as he threw open his trunk and extracted the bag he'd brought home with him. Ginny sprawled across the bed and peered inside the trunk, reaching one hand inside to poke around in his socks. Harry slapped at her hand.

"Oi!" he cried. "Hands off!" Ginny pouted.

"But I love that pair with the broomsticks on."

Harry shook his head and rummaged around in the bag and extracted the box of chocolate frogs he'd picked up that morning in Hogsmeade. He handed it to Ginny absently as he delved deeper into the bag for the envelope Dudley had given him.

"Chocolate frogs huh?" she asked. Harry nodded absently.

"We can see if we can find that card of the Drooble's guy," he said, pulling out a small battery charger. "Damn, I forgot to give this to your dad."

"Why chocolate frogs?" asked Ginny. Harry looked up at her, a dirty shirt dangling from one hand and the battery charger in the other. She looked a little perplexed. There was a slight scowl on her face and her forehead was wrinkled as she frowned at the box in her hands.

"You asked for chocolate," Harry said throwing the charger on the bed and balling up the shirt to lob into his laundry basket. "You said you'd need it. There's plenty of chocolate in a box of chocolate frogs." He rummaged in the bag again and pulled out his razor, a pair of socks and a comb before finally locating the envelope. He hastily dropped everything else haphazardly in his trunk and slammed the lid shut. He stopped short at the sight of Ginny sitting on the edge of his bed staring at the box of chocolate frogs as if it owed her a favour.

"I did, didn't I?" she muttered. Harry sat gingerly on the bed next to her.

"Did you want something else?" he asked quietly. "It's just … you didn't really say what sort and we haven't really had a good chocolate frog jumping contest for ages. Plus we need a new Agrippa and Seamus said there was a new series of cards being released before Christmas. We might get some in this box." Ginny turned to him and reached for his hand.

"No," she said, "these are fine; I didn't really specify. You're right." She squeezed his hand affectionately. Harry leaned down to give her a soft kiss and soon the parchment envelope and the box of chocolate frogs lay forgotten on the floor.

When Dean came charging in a short time later he groaned, loudly.

"Should you two be doing that in front of Trevor? He's a very impressionable young toad." Harry looked up, startled to find Dean walking out of the room with his hand over his eyes and Trevor sitting on the chair next to his bed, eyeing him with beady, little black eyes.

"What are you looking at?" he asked the toad gruffly and Ginny burst into peals of laughter. Trevor just eyed them solemnly from his perch on the chair before hopping down and across the envelope and under Neville's bed. Ginny bent down to scoop up the chocolate frogs and envelope.

"What's in here?" she asked Harry, turning the envelope over in her hands. Harry swallowed.

"I um … I don't know, not really," he said quietly. "It's from Godric's Hollow; from the – my house." Ginny had been about to peer inside the envelope but stopped abruptly and looked up at him.

"Godric's Hollow?" she echoed. "You went to Godric's Hollow? Merlin, no wonder you've gone all quiet." Harry shook his head.

"No, I didn't go to Godric's Hollow," he said. Ginny waited while Harry battled an internal war with himself about telling her where he'd gotten the envelope. He had wanted nothing more than to share it with her for the last twenty-four hours and now that she was here, holding the envelope, he found himself tongue-tied. When Ginny gently put a hand on his arm Harry looked up at her. She smiled.

"How's Teddy?" she asked. Harry was momentarily confused. They'd been talking about the envelope and now she had asked a completely unrelated question.

"He's uh, he's good – cutting a tooth," Harry replied. Ginny nodded and Harry wondered what she expected him to say next. Hermione had pressed him for answers, not relenting until he'd told her everything, or so she believed. Ginny just ... waited.

"Did you get the werewolf thing at the Ministry sorted out yesterday?"

"Sort of," Harry shook his head wearily. "Bill thought it went well but – I asked Hermione to help." Ginny didn't try to hide her smirk. She ran the hand on his arm down to loosely grasp his fingers and laid the parchment envelope down on the bed beside them.

"She'll be completely in her element," said Ginny nodding. "I don't think Teddy could have anyone better looking out for him, you know? That little boy is going to be so loved – we have to be careful not to spoil him."

"You think I'm doing all right as a godfather?" Harry asked suddenly. He pulled Ginny with him as he scrambled back onto his bed, resting against the headboard. Ginny snuggled into his side and he slipped his arms around her.

"I think you're doing brilliantly," Ginny replied. "He's very lucky, just like me."

"Oh yes, and why are you lucky then?" Harry teased.

"Because I've got you," Ginny said very seriously. Harry looked at her, momentarily lost for words at the seriousness of her tone. It didn't matter to her that he'd not told her about the envelope and what he'd been up to. She didn't demand to know what was going on or prod him and needle him until he told her. She was happy just to be with him. But he knew she was worried, he could see it lurking in her eyes. He studied her for a moment; her long eyelashes swept her cheeks as she blinked. Her cheeks were a faint pink because he'd slipped one hand around her waist and was softly stroking her back with his thumb.

"I went to the Dursley's," he blurted suddenly. "_Dudley_ gave it to me – the envelope." Harry leaned his head back on the headboard and closed his eyes. He felt Ginny stiffen beside him.

"What was it doing there?" she asked sounding like she was choosing her words with the utmost care.

"They took it," he spat, "from the house."

"How? It's charmed so Muggles can't see it."

"Dedalus took them," Harry answered, letting out a large sigh. "Dudley's weird. He's like … he's going to be a policeman!" Ginny wrinkled her forehead in thought.

"Is that like an Auror?"

"Well, its law enforcement," said Harry. "Aurors are probably more specialised than a regular policeman, but I am not sure there is any way to compare. It's ironic though. He used to beat up me and any other little kid within a ten mile radius. Not exactly law abiding behaviour."

"I didn't realise you were going there this weekend," said Ginny idly.

"I hadn't planned on it exactly …" he trailed off.

"Well you didn't do it by accident," Ginny rolled her eyes at him.

"It was sort of – I kind of …" Harry sighed. "When the hearing at the Ministry didn't really resolve anything I needed to just get out of there. I was just so frustrated. Remember there used to be that statue in the Atrium at the Ministry? And it got replaced with this absolutely vile statue that got ripped down?" Ginny nodded.

"Dad said it was one of the most disturbing things he's seen," she said quietly.

"There's a big gaping hole in the Atrium now, where it used to be," said Harry. "It's like there's a gaping hole in other places too. It's nothing like the way it bustled … before. And I don't know who Kingsley dragged up to speak officially against the legislation but he was the most nervous wreck of a man I've ever seen. I don't know how he makes it out of his house, let alone into some position in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

"It was pretty obvious to me that he was just some person who was reading out something Bill and Kingsley threw together to fight this Brown idiot. He had no idea. He probably wasn't even in the Department until yesterday! I wanted so badly to just tell them where to go, but there's all these procedures and … law things. I don't know how they all work. I thought I did but …"

"Well we can figure it out," said Ginny. "You got Hermione working on it didn't you?" Harry laughed slightly.

"Is it wrong for me to think only Hermione can do this?" Harry asked suddenly. He looked down at Ginny who shook her head, smiling slightly.

"I think it's perfectly reasonable to turn to Hermione," she answered, "for that." She was drawing patterns on his chest with her fingers and Harry let himself forget everything else for a moment and just feel her gentle touch. It wasn't long before he had captured her lips with his own and ran his own fingers up her back and into her hair.

Harry would have probably really enjoyed himself if it had not been for the fact that when he flipped her onto her back his own foot connected with the box of chocolate frogs and sent it crashing to the ground before landing on the parchment envelope. With a groan Harry pulled away and sat up to pick up the envelope. It felt heavy in his hands and they shook as he turned it over. He could feel Ginny kneeling behind him and she rested one hand lightly on his back.

"Aunt Petunia had a photograph on her hall table," he said softly. "It was a baby picture of my mum. Dudley said they got it at the house in Godric's Hollow. I wanted to hex them. How dare they go there? I was so angry, Ginny. They went there and they _took_ something.

"But then Dudley gave me … this. He found it there, says there's another one in here. He kept it for me I think. He's never done anything nice for me before. What if – what if it's a joke? What if there's really nothing in here but some old paper?"

"It's parchment," said Ginny softly. "Does Dudley go around with parchment envelopes much?" Harry snorted.

"I'm scared," he said softly turning to face her, the envelope sitting innocuously between them in his hands, "and I don't know why."

"What did the photograph look like," asked Ginny, "the one of your mum?" Harry shrugged.

"Like a baby," he said. "She was sitting with Aunt Petunia and holding a teddy bear. I've never seen her baby photo before. I want to know if I looked like her when I was a baby or if … if I always looked like my dad. What if there isn't really a photo in here? What if it's all a sick joke?"

"Do you want me to look?" Ginny asked him. Harry turned the envelope over again in his hands. If Ginny opened it and there was nothing there it would still hurt. Did he really need Ginny to look at some paper for him? He took a deep breath and shook his head.

"No, but just … stay here, okay?" he said as he looked her in the eyes and upended the envelope in front of him. He didn't look down, and neither did Ginny. They stayed looking into each other's eyes for an impossibly long time before Harry slowly looked down at the black and white photographs that lay across Ginny's lap.


	32. Chapter 32

**32. Future Fortune**

They were Muggle photographs. Old black and white studio shots on stiff cardstock, flimsy, faded snapshots and Polaroids filled with cheesy smiles and silly faces. Harry tentatively reached out a hand and picked up a photograph of a cherubic baby who smiled statically at the camera. It was the baby in the photo at Aunt Petunia's. It was Lily.

"This is my mum," whispered Harry. Ginny peered at the photo in his hands.

"You've got her eyes," she said softly. Harry smiled softly.

"I know," he whispered, gazing at the picture.

"They must have had a family photo session," commented Ginny, shuffling through the pictures and pulling out two more stiff photos. One was a copy of the picture Harry had seen at Aunt Petunia's and one had those same two little girls seated on the laps of a sweet looking plump woman and a thin, angular man who was grinning from ear to ear. His eyes matched those of his daughter perched carefully on his lap. Harry felt his eyes grow wet as he reached out to trace the man's features.

"These must be my grandparents," he said. "I have my grandfather's eyes."

"Harry," Ginny said tentatively after a moment. Harry sniffed and wiped his eyes hastily before he looked up at Ginny and gave her half a smile. "Didn't – didn't you know that before?" Harry shook his head absently as he laid the group of photographs next to him on the bed.

"They died before I was born," he said, picking up a small snapshot of a laughing toddler. "I never met them."

"But in their photos," Ginny persisted anxiously. Harry turned the photo over and read the inscription scrawled on the back in smudged lead pencil _'ily, 12 mos fi'_.

"Oh, I wasn't allowed to look at the photo albums," he said almost carelessly. "Hey, look, maybe these were her first steps." He showed the photo to Ginny, his eyes sparkling half with unshed tears and half with excitement.

"Never?" was all Ginny replied, gazing at him sadly. Harry reached out a hand to caress her face. He shook his head.

"They were too precious and none of my business," he said softly. "Unless I had to dust them. I don't think I even knew what they were for a long time. Dudley was looking at one once and I saw enough to realise they had photos in them but …" Harry shrugged as he trailed off and returned his attention to the photographs from the envelope.

He pulled photograph after photograph from the pile, tracing the features of the chubby baby, smiling toddler and slender child that would become his mother. In some shots she played with her sister and in a few she lay cradled in her mother's arms or hoisted onto her father's shoulders. There were only about twenty and only a couple were of a child older than eleven. As he shuffled through the pictures Harry found a bright splash of colour. It was a Polaroid of Lily sitting in front of a gaily decorated Christmas tree, her hair tied back from her face. Next to her was a young man with impossibly messy dark hair wearing spectacles.

"Look, it's my mum and dad," he whispered. "They must have been about seventeen."

"They look so happy," said Ginny a little wistfully. Harry looked carefully at the photograph. Harry looked carefully at the photograph. He didn't recognise the place it had been taken. The couch behind his parents had a garish floral pattern on it that he could never imagine Aunt Petunia perched on. Lily and James were sitting on a Chudley Canon Orange shag pile rug strewn with crumpled wrapping paper. The flash had reflected off his father's glasses and he could see his parents' hands entwined and resting on his mother's knee. It was there he saw it; a tiny sparkle on his mother's left hand. There was a little box in his father's other hand. He glanced back up at the impossibly wide grins on both their faces and he turned to Ginny excitedly.

"I think this is their engagement photograph," he said. "Look." Ginny inspected the photograph and smiled softly.

"He must have asked her at Christmas," Harry mused. "They look so young."

"Sirius said they got married pretty much straight away," Ginny said, looking thoughtful. "Do you think they were still in Hogwarts here? Home for Christmas?" Harry nodded.

"At my mum's house I think, the photograph is Muggle," he answered. He turned it over. "There's no date on the back, no writing." Harry frowned slightly. He shrugged and looked at the photograph once more before carefully shuffling them all together.

"I wonder where their wedding pictures are," Ginny murmured.

"I don't know," said Harry. "I've got one but I think it used to belong to Remus."

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry," Ginny said and her hand flew to her mouth. "I – I didn't think." Harry stopped filing the photographs back into the parchment envelope long enough to lay one hand gently on her knee.

"It's okay," he said, "really." Ginny reached out a hand to stop him putting the photograph in front of the Christmas tree back in the envelope.

"Wait," she said as she got her wand out. She riffled through her pockets and extracted a bent quill. Concentrating very hard, she muttered a quick incantation transfiguring it into a photo frame and slipped the picture inside. She then turned and moved aside the Potions text book and several quills to place the picture on Harry's nightstand.

"Thank you," said Harry softly as he felt tears gather in the corners of his eyes again. He then let Ginny kiss them away as they took their time saying goodnight.

***************

The week passed slowly. Harry had more free time while Ginny and Hermione were in Astronomy; although Hermione encouraged him to do some research and handed him several thick tomes about werewolves, Harry somehow ended up down at Hagrid's place playing with Dora. Harry came back to the castle covered in muddy paw prints; the books lay untouched in the common room. Hermione frowned at him and Ginny giggled.

Professor Thistlewaite had not appeared noticeably more comfortable around Harry and by the second lesson of the week Harry decided to sit at the very back because it was clear no one would learn anything if the Professor kept transfiguring tableware into commemorative Harry Potter plates. Harry was sure that Seamus had started doing it to every plate Harry used in the Great Hall but had been unable to catch him in the act. Harry spent the week eating off his own face and glaring at Seamus who always smiled back serenely.

Double Muggle Studies had degenerated into a Monopoly game no one wanted to stop playing. Draco Malfoy had proved surprisingly good at it and Harry had never seen anything quite as unexpected as Neville Longbottom cheering when Malfoy cleaned Dean out entirely. Most of the classes had been uneventful and life became a pattern of attending classes, completing homework and snogging Ginny while on patrol to catch errant students out of bed. Hermione had rolled her eyes when Harry changed her perfectly organised patrol schedule to ensure he partnered Ginny, but Harry suspected she'd rostered him with Dennis and Ginny with Neville deliberately just to see if he would change it because he caught her smirking as she rolled it up and stowed it in her bag after the Prefect's meeting.

By the time Friday came around Harry was growing bored and restless. He was itching to do something … exciting. At the morning break, after he'd spent more time than he cared to smiling stiffly at a fawning Slughorn and an excruciatingly polite Malfoy, Harry pulled Ginny aside.

"I'm going to see if I can go visit Ron," he said. Ginny scowled at him.

"He's coming tomorrow," she protested.

"Well, I'll be back tonight," said Harry, taken aback by her uncharacteristic sullenness.

"But you can't wait until tomorrow," Ginny muttered.

"I thought I might go and see Lavender," Harry explained quietly.

"Well, you don't need my permission," snapped Ginny, crossing her arms across her chest.

"I wasn't asking for it," Harry pointed out snidely, confused and more than a little put out by her attitude. Ginny said nothing more and stalked away. Harry stomped down to Hagrid feeling more than a little out-of-sorts and was annoyed to find that Hagrid didn't seem to care. It was almost as if he was distracted by something.

"I don't get it," Harry said as they reached the gates. "She's never been so possessive of my time."

"All right Harry," Hagrid said, glancing backwards and pushing Harry out of the gate so hard that he stumbled in the roadway, "let us know when ye're comin' back. I best get back to me … er, I'd best be getting back anyhow." Hagrid had turned and lumbered back to his hut as fast as he could. Harry shook his head. He wasn't sure he wanted to know and he turned and Disapparated, still disgruntled at Ginny and irritated that Hagrid didn't seem to care.

Harry probably pushed the door to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes open harder than was strictly necessary and stomped inside a little louder than was warranted. Ron looked up and scowled at him.

"What's up your nose?" he asked. Harry threw himself into the chair behind the counter and just grunted.

"Ah," said George suddenly appearing out of thin air, "women." He nodded sagely.

"Stop doing that," whined Ron. "Do you _have_ to Apparate everywhere just because you can?"

"Little brother," said George serenely. "You appear to be emulating our dear mother."

"Where have you been anyway, you git?" Ron grumbled. "You've been gone for days and not even an Owl!"

"Shhhh, not now, Ronald," said George. "Harrikins looks a little stressed." Ron made a rude gesture behind George as his older brother turned to Harry and put a finger thoughtfully on his chin. He stood there for a while, his head tilted to the side watching Harry who began to squirm under his intense gaze.

"What?" Harry asked uncomfortably, when he could stand it no longer.

"Oh, nothing, nothing," said George airily as he turned to straighten some already straight shelves in an extremely exaggerated manner. There was silence for a moment while George tidied shelves that were already as neat as a pin and Ron dusted the window display that wasn't dusty.

Harry sighed heavily.

"I didn't _do_ anything," he said plaintively. George chuckled and Ron snorted.

"No, seriously," said Ron, leaning on the counter. "What did you do?" Harry crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Ron.

"Nothing," he said, "why are you assuming it was me? I didn't do anything!"

"Maybe that's the problem," muttered George with a smirk. Harry gave him a withering stare.

"Ginny got stroppy because …" he trailed off and sighed. "I have no idea." George shook his head sagely.

"Best not to try and figure it out," he said.

"Not this week," added Ron. Harry shook his head resignedly.

"I have no idea what you are on about," he grumbled. George leaned towards him with an unholy gleam in his eye.

"Maybe she _wants_ you to do something," he suggested in such a lecherous manner that Harry recoiled reflexively.

"Ewwwww, George!" hissed Ron. "This is Ginny we're talking about!"

"Yeah and my Galleons are on before Christmas," George deadpanned. "This is protecting my investment."

"She needed chocolate this week anyway," said Ron. George frowned before his face cleared and he nodded.

"What has chocolate got to do with anything?" asked Harry, exasperated.

"You have no idea, do you?" asked George pityingly. He clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder and leaned in close. He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Chocolate becomes a necessity; no indeed, it becomes a lifesaver during the time a witch experiences … mood swings," he explained.

"Mood swings?" repeated Harry. George nodded.

"Chocolate tames the savage beast within," he intoned.

"Never, ever say that to them," Ron interjected, "ever."

"You did give her chocolate, didn't you?" asked George urgently.

"Yeah, if you count chocolate frogs," snickered Ron. George stared at Harry aghast.

"Next month you _need_ to do better than that," he said. "I recommend some of Honeyduke's finest, fashioned into handmade balls and filled with the tantalising taste of summer berries and caramel."

"Oh and that's your weapon of choice, is it?" snorted Ron. George shrugged.

"Fred swore by them," he said. Ron just gave George a funny look.

"Next month?" Harry questioned, the phrase tumbling through his mind, tickling at his conscience. He furrowed his brow trying to capture the ideas that were flitting in and out and teasing him as if to say he wasn't quite good enough to know the secret.

"To satisfy the monthly visitor," Ron said at last. He shuddered and looked as though Aunt Muriel had just decided to visit - permanently. "Demanding beast." Harry gaped at Ron.

"That's what the chocolate was for?" he asked weakly. Ron nodded.

"And that means you've got about a week to hone the rest of your skills," mused George.

"Would you stop encouraging him!" Ron shouted.

"Oh come on! Someone has to protect his interests," said George. "Ginny's got three other brothers to defend her honour. I'm on his side! You're his best mate, you should be too!" Ron snorted.

"Okay, I don't need to talk about this with you two!" Harry shuddered and stood up. "Now, I thought I might go and see Lavender."

"Well I hope you have better luck than Bill," said Ron, suddenly sober. "He went to talk to her and he reckons she sort of took one look at him and dived into the Floo."

"Yeah, but _he's_ Harry Potter," said George cheekily. Harry gave him a withering look as he strode towards the door.

"I guess we'll find out," Harry muttered grasping the door handle and yanking it open.

"If it doesn't work," called George, "we'll take her some of Honeyduke's finest handmade balls of chocolate filled with the tantalising taste of summer berries and caramel."

Harry strode over and pushed open the door to Parvati and Lavender's shop and was overwhelmed with the heady scents of tea and incense. Parvati was sitting on a large ottoman in the middle of the store, a crystal ball sat on a small lace draped table in front of her and she was peering into it while Lavender sat on the other side in an overstuffed pink armchair.

"Are you sure that's what you can see?" Lavender said anxiously. Parvati nodded. "There's no wolves in it?" Parvati sighed.

"No," she said, "there are no wolves."

"There are," muttered Lavender looking into the small fireplace that was belching alternate red and purple flames. "There are wolves in my future I just know it."

"None of the Divination methods we have tried in the last three months have ever indicated wolves," said Parvati impatiently.

"Well, maybe you're not doing them right," snapped Lavender. She drew her legs up to her chest and to Harry she looked very small and frail curled up in the large, overstuffed armchair. She was thin and pale and her hair hung lankly about her face. Her eyes were dull and listless and she looked, for the first time since Harry had known her, as if she was wearing last season's robes.

"You don't have to be afraid," Parvati tried again. "There are no wolves, no werewolves."

"I can't help it, he's still out there," Lavender cried. "What if he comes back to finish the job? What if he brings friends? They could get you, too!" Parvati shrugged wearily as if they had this conversation every day.

"The werewolves aren't even organised anymore," she said. "Greyback's a fugitive with a price on his head. He couldn't show his face around here without being captured."

"I don't see any Aurors patrolling," said Lavender bitterly. "Who? Who's going to catch him?"

"Ron, probably," said Parvati. Lavender snorted softly. "I'm serious. He's right over there-" Parvati turned to gesture across the street and stopped abruptly as she spotted Harry standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Sorry, I just … well … hello," Harry stammered.

"Harry!" gasped Parvati, standing up and crossing swiftly to give Harry a brief hug which he attempted unsuccessfully to return. "What are you doing here? I thought you were at Hogwarts?"

"I was, I am," said Harry. "I had some things to do." Lavender, who had been silent until then, suddenly uncurled herself and stood up. She looked scared and Harry wondered if she was about to dive into the Floo.

"Why did Bill Weasley come the other day?" she asked softly.

"He wanted to see how you were," Harry guessed wildly. "We've heard you've been under the weather." Lavender laughed a short, bitter laugh.

"Yeah, I guess that's one way of putting it," she said, "seriously, why him? He doesn't even know me and he's scary."

"We're concerned," Harry said. "Bill wanted to talk to you because he, he-"

"Because he got attacked by a werewolf too?" asked Lavender. "Did he want to compare stories? Compare _scars_?"

"Bill's not like that-"

"Everybody's like that!" Lavender screeched suddenly. "Everybody wants to know about my scars, what they look like, how I _feel_. Well I'll tell you Harry Potter, I feel scared. I feel ugly and I feel like any day now they're going to come back; come back and finish it off!" She stood hands clenched and face flushed.

"Well I'm scared too," said Harry quietly. "Scared they are going to take away my godson." Lavender looked at him in confusion.

"Your godson?" she echoed blankly. "Who's your godson?"

"Teddy Lupin," answered Harry. "_Professor Lupin's_ son."

"Why would anyone take him away?" Lavender looked confused.

"You don't know, do you?" questioned Harry. Lavender shook her head.

"Know what?" she asked exasperatedly. "I never even met the kid. I didn't even know Professor Lupin had a son."

"His name is Teddy and he's a metamorphmagus like his mother," said Harry. "He's nearly six months old, favours turquoise hair and is cutting his first tooth. He lives with his grandmother because his parents were both killed in the battle at Hogwarts."

"What has all that got to do with me?"

"Teddy isn't a werewolf," said Harry quietly, "but they still want to take him away because his father was one."

"Well that's ridiculous," scoffed Lavender. "Who would do that? Why would they? And why are you telling _me_ all this?"

"There's a Ministry worker in the Department for the Care and Control of Magical Creatures who is trying to pass legislation to control werewolves," said Harry. He hadn't moved from the doorway and watched as Lavender came a few steps closer. The meagre light from the veiled window threw her face into stark relief and Harry could see the bones standing out sharply, casting shadows and making her look almost skeletal.

"You just said he's not a werewolf," challenged Lavender.

"The legislation is meant to cover more than just actual werewolves," explained Harry. "To protect the general public, it is to cover anyone who is a descendant of or has been attacked by a werewolf." Lavender stared at him silently. Suddenly she reached hand up and wrenched at her robes, pulling them aside jerkily and ripping the neckline to expose three jagged slashes that tore across her left shoulder and ran down her arm and chest, disappearing below the folds of her torn robes. They were not quite healed, a smaller replica of Bill's, and what looked like teeth marks appeared to be mingled with the scars near her collarbone.

"Attacked like this?" she spat. Harry swallowed heavily and nodded.

"I suspect just like that," he said.

"Lav," moaned Parvati.

"Who?" Lavender asked harshly. "Who wants to do this?"

"Moses Brown," answered Harry.

"Uncle Moses?" Lavender repeated weakly, her robes still hanging limply from her left arm. She sat down abruptly on a nearby loveseat and stared blankly at the wall. "Why would he do this to me?"

"Well he's trying to protect you," began Harry but stopped abruptly when Lavender began laughing hysterically. Parvati hurried over to her, murmuring soothing words and tried to pull her robes back into place. Lavender shook her off; gestured her arms wildly, her left arm moving stiffly.

"He's not trying to protect me!" she cried. "He hates me! He always has!"

"Well that's what he said," Harry protested. "You are taking everything hard. He wants you to get better so if the werewolves are all controlled they can't possibly come and get you."

"He's lying! Don't you see?" Lavender hissed, stilling her movements and staring at Harry. "He knows it will mean locking me up too, and then I can't turn on him. We're all living in the same house right now, Uncle Moses, my cousins, my parents and I. Aunt Josephine was killed at the start of the year, just after Christmas when their house was torched. Uncle Moses was at the Ministry and the children were with my mum that day but my Aunt and the house … gone.

"So they moved in with us. I was still at school but mum sent me an Owl. Elspeth is starting Hogwarts next year and Moses junior is still only six. Uncle Moses wants to move out but he doesn't know how he'll go to work and care for them. Mum looks after the children so Uncle Moses doesn't have to find paid help. We have heaps of room but he insists on them all sleeping in the same room and he locks the door at night. Mum and Dad have told him he's welcome to stay as long as he likes, but he can't afford anything right now. The cost of magical construction is pretty high and insurance payments aren't coming through very fast.

"He's terrified of me Harry! He thinks I'm going to go crazy on the full moon and turn them all into werewolves! Dad tried to tell me Uncle Moses was just concerned when I woke up the other night yelling and screaming, but I could see him – he had fear in his eyes, Harry! He thought I was turning into a werewolf. I wasn't. I was running from them in my nightmares."

"So … you didn't know about this?" Harry sank down onto the loveseat next to Lavender. She shook her head.

"No," she whispered. "I didn't know he'd moved from locking himself up to locking me up. Doesn't he understand what we fought for?"

"I guess not," said Parvati softly. Lavender turned beseeching eyes on Harry.

"You can't let him do this," she pleaded. "You have to do something."

"Hermione's researching now," nodded Harry. "We've got about a week until the next hearing of the matter before the Wizengamot."

"Hermione," Lavender smiled softly. "She saved me you know. I heard her throw that … that monster off me. I thought she hated me."

"No," Harry protested. "She …"

"Oh don't be silly, Harry," Lavender laughed, a soft giggle that sounded more like the Lavender Harry had known for years and not the terrified shell of a girl sitting next to him. "I knew how she felt about Ron and she knows I did and I went after him anyway. I was determined to be better than her in just one thing ... well two things really, as I'm sure she still has … issues with her hair. We all knew everybody's romantic secrets."

"Well it wasn't exactly a secret how Hermione and Ron felt about each other," said Parvati. Harry snorted.

"She never admitted it though, did she?" contested Lavender. "Not to any of the boys. I bet she didn't even tell Harry!"

"I'm sure they all knew," said Parvati. "None of them are quite as dense as that."

"Yes, well it probably took them longer to figure it out than us," Lavender asserted with some authority.

"Hey!" exclaimed Harry. "I knew! I knew in … um … definitely by sixth year." Parvati rolled her eyes at him.

"About three years later than the rest of us," she said. "It took me ages to convince Padma to go to the Yule Ball with him. You are lucky I had a minor crush on you, Harry Potter, or we would have turned you both down!" Harry stared at her in shock.

"You what?" he asked weakly. Lavender burst into peals of laughter.

"Padma was going to ask Neville, but he asked Ginny so she decided not to go at all," Parvati explained. "I saw you mooning after Cho, so I wasn't about to embarrass myself by asking you. We were going to boycott the ball entirely. Then you asked me and I was just so desperate to go with you I _had_ to talk Padma into going with Ron because we all knew he was carrying a torch for Hermione."

"Didn't Padma want to go with Justin?" asked Lavender. "When did she decide to ask Neville?"

"No, she wanted to go with Zacharias," said Parvati rolling her eyes, "had a dreadful crush on him. I was ever so glad when she got over _him_. Could you imagine having _him_ for a brother-in-law? I'll tell you who did ask her though – Blaise Zabini."

"No!" gasped Lavender. "She never told us that!"

"Well, she wouldn't would she? A Slytherin asking her to the Ball; I mean who'd want to admit that?"

"Well at least it wasn't those two who kept hanging around Malfoy!"

"Oh puh-lease!" scoffed Parvati fluttering a hand at Lavender. "Those two were as gay as the day is long."

"Please," said Harry plaintively, "you are making my head hurt. I thought Padma wanted to go with Neville?"

"Oh no, she wanted to go with Zacharias," stated Parvati expertly as she sat next to Harry on the loveseat, effectively wedging him in the middle. "See, she wanted to go with Zacharias but she had such a crush on him that she couldn't possibly ask him so she thought about Justin for a while, but he took … um, Susan or Hannah or somebody; some Hufflepuff." She dismissed it with a wave of her hand.

"So why ask Neville?" asked Harry, entirely confused.

"To make Zacharias jealous, of course," said Lavender. "But she waited too long and all the good ones were taken." Harry snorted.

"Except you and Ron," added Parvati. "She refused, utterly refused at first. I had to beg her."

"I'm not going with that arse," Lavender said, in a high pitched tone that mimicked an outraged Padma Patil. "I thought I was going to die when Hermione said there was nothing wrong with Ron's arse." Parvati burst out laughing.

"Just … stop," pleaded Harry. "It was torture at the time, let's not relive it!" He was pinned between the two girls on the loveseat as they fluttered and giggled their way through reminiscences of their romantic adventures.

"We all thought Hermione was going with Michael Corner, remember?" Parvati giggled.

"She wouldn't tell us a thing about her date," said Lavender, "and Corner wouldn't tell."

"Did he go stag?"

"No, I think he went with … that Luna girl?"

"No, it was a Hufflepuff from third year," said Parvati. "I remember the look of disgust on Susan's face. I think it was like her cousin or something?"

"Oh! That's right and she was so excited to go and then he ignored her all night, staring at Ginny Weasley!"

"But she was all right, Susan's cousin," clarified Parvati. "I mean isn't that where she met that Ravenclaw she's going out with now? Roger Davies' best friend's little brother?"

"Oh yes! Yes!" squealed Lavender, she lowered her voice conspiratorially and leaned across Harry. "I heard you know, that they … did it, before she went back to Hogwarts. He's working at that law firm now. Just the coffee boy, but still; he'll be up and coming before you know it!"

"Well if you are going to give yourself away like that," sniffed Parvati, "I suppose with someone who works in a law firm is a better bet than some bum off the street."

"Oh I don't know," mused Lavender. "Imagine doing it and then being locked away at Hogwarts. I mean wouldn't you have gotten a … taste for it? What do you think, Harry?" They both turned to pin their gaze on him and Harry felt his face heat up magnificently.

"I erm, well I wouldn't know," he muttered, casting about for a way to escape.

"No, of course," Parvati smiled and patted his arm. "It must be so heavenly to be with Ginny all the time." She sighed and Lavender giggled.

"This has been great, catching up," said Harry, levering himself out of the seat with difficulty. "I, um, have to go. It's been great, really. I'll keep you updated." He scurried out of the shop and across the road to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes as fast as he could, leaving the two girls giggling on the loveseat and waving airily at him.

The doorbell clanged horribly as he opened the door and jumped in surprise.

"Oi! I thought you got rid of that thing!" he yelled. George popped his head up from behind the counter.

"Oh no, my good man!" he crowed. "I fixed it! You were a long time in there, started to think they devoured you alive. I was about to send a search party, see if we needed to rescue you from the lace and frills." Ron emerged from behind the counter.

"You did not fix it!" he glowered. "It sounds worse than ever. Just get rid of it!"

"But Dad would be crushed!" protested George. "That was a gift, that was!"

"Oh don't pretend like you care what Dad thinks," murmured Ron wearily. He said it very quietly and Harry did not think George was supposed to have heard it, but George had turned his head at that moment so his ear was facing Ron and must have caught every word.

"What do you mean, 'I don't care what Dad thinks'?" he asked harshly. Ron stiffened.

"Nothing," he mumbled and started walking towards the back room. "Here, Harry. I'll get you some real chocolate to take back to Ginny."

"Don't you walk away from me!" shouted George. Harry stayed hovering in the doorway, unsure whether to intervene or not.

"Why not?" Ron bellowed back. "You do it all the time! I don't even know where you _were_ the last week! I covered for you! I told Dad you were at Lee's house for the weekend. For all I know you could have drunk yourself into a stupor in some ditch somewhere!"

"I was with Angie!"

"Oh yeah?" asked Ron sarcastically. "Shagging your dead brother's girlfriend, that's real nice." George, who had been red in the face, suddenly went white.

"You don't know anything," he said. "You don't know anything!"

"You're right, I don't!" snarled Ron. "You don't bother telling me anything. You just take off for who knows where – different woman or pub each night probably, leaving me to tell Mum why you aren't home for dinner. Last night I had to tell her you'd practically moved back in here and then she wanted to come around and clean up for you and stuff. You're lucky Percy chose that moment to come moping in the door and sighing heavily. She turned all her guilt on him."

"Guilt?" Harry ventured but he was drowned out by George who began to shout.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN DIFFERENT WOMEN?" he bellowed. "How _dare_ you-"

"I've seen you with a lot of witches," Ron said matter-of-factly.

"Not recently," George retorted, glaring at Ron menacingly.

"Wouldn't know, would I," said Ron. "Haven't seen you lately, have I? It was very nice of you to turn up for work today by the way. Verity was beginning to wonder and I was running out of plausible excuses."

"Yes, well I'm back now," George said through clenched teeth.

"The point is – where have you been?"

"None of your business," retorted George sullenly.

"Yes it is, it's half mine," growled Ron. "You and Harry gave it to me."

"No," said Harry, panicked. "That was Fred's half." Ron rolled his eyes at Harry.

"Do you all think I'm completely stupid?"

"Maybe the shop's half yours," said George quietly, "but my personal life isn't any of your business no matter how you slice it."

"Where were you?" Ron pleaded this time. "Mum's worried. She pretended she wasn't but it's only because Perce needs her that she's not run off looking for you."

"What's wrong with BigHead?"

"Penelope broke it off with him and he's a broken shell of a man," replied Ron. George raised an eyebrow at him.

"Broken shell? I didn't know you were so poetic, mate."

"Ron's apparently very poetic and romantic," murmured Harry without thinking.

"What?" Ron yelped. "What did Hermione tell you?" Harry flushed a brilliant red and George snickered.

"Nothing," said Harry.

"Much," added George. Harry glared at him.

"Just … come home for dinner tonight," said Ron, "show Mum that you are alive and in one piece. I don't care what you do; live above the shop with a harem drinking elderberry wine and eating cupcakes or marry a Muggle and dwell on a mountaintop in Wales for all I care. Just please show Mum your face once in a while."

"Alive and in one piece?" George said dully. "Is that what this is called, this … existence?"

"What are you talking about?" muttered Ron tiredly. "You're acting very strangely."

"No I'm not," said George immediately. He plastered a wide smile on his face that was undeniably fake. "I'm fine. See?" Ron raised an eyebrow at him.

"You have been moping about here for months looking like somebody died," said Ron. Harry gaped at him.

"Someone _did_ die, you _git_!" George burst out, his face furious. Ron ignored him entirely.

"And now, here you are suddenly looking all bright and _chipper_ like you've been hit with Flitwick's strongest Cheering Charm. Something's not right," Ron said, leaning against the doorframe casually, his arms crossed over his chest; one leg hooked in front of the other. George looked as though Ron had just hit a Bludger into his stomach.

"Ron-" Harry started but Ron cut him off.

"If you're going to tell me to go easy on him, don't," he said shortly. "I can't do this anymore. I can't tiptoe around things. It's not something I do. I can't take any more pretending Mum's coping or that George is okay. Mum's _not _coping. George is _not_ okay."

"I am, I'm fine," said George weakly.

"Stop it! Just stop it!" Ron cried. "Stop pretending you're fine. Stop pretending you don't look for women to distract you. Stop pretending you aren't drinking every night. Stop pretending everything's okay!"

There was a long moment where no one said anything. Harry stood motionless in the doorway and George was breathing heavily in the middle of the shop. Ron was standing near the back of the shop, tense and holding his breath. Harry wondered if he should leave but Ron shot him a look that clearly told him to guard the door. Harry stayed exactly where he was, waiting.

"Don't try Apparating," Ron said. "Hermione taught me an anti-Apparition ward. If you try it you'll Splinch yourself. Splinching's really unpleasant." Harry raised his eyebrow at Ron who stared at George impassively. Harry turned and carefully flipped the sign on the door to _'closed'_ and fastened the latch.

George said nothing.

"You didn't look hung over this morning at least," began Ron conversationally. "So that's something."

"That's because I didn't get drunk last night," said George softly. He turned to stare out the window. Harry shifted uncomfortably as George's gaze swept over him and settled on something in the distance.

"Where have you been?" asked Ron quietly.

"I told you, with Angie," answered George. His white knuckled hands were clenched into fists and his arms hung rigidly at his sides.

"D'you … well, d'you think that's … healthy?" stammered Ron. George chuckled mirthlessly.

"Not in the slightest," he replied harshly, "which is why it makes me an utter bastard."

"George …" Ron trailed off as George sank to the floor, cradling his head in his hands. "George, what happened?" Ron moved closer to George slowly, as if approaching a frightened animal.

"I met her," George said. "Angie. At the pub."

"Which one?" asked Ron dryly. George made a rude gesture at him.

"Not the point," he muttered. "She … wasn't doing too good. Probably drank a little more than was healthy." Ron snorted.

"When was this?" Harry asked.

"Um … Friday I think," George squinted. "I can't really remember which day it was, they sort of blurred into each other after that."

"Days? Just how long was this bender?" asked Ron harshly.

"I don't know!" wailed George. "Two days, three maybe. We weren't really looking at the clock."

"We?" yelped Ron. "Angelina went on this bender _with_ you?" George winced.

"For a few _days_?" said Harry incredulously. "What were you _doing_?" George blushed magnificently.

"You didn't," Ron groaned. George didn't move. "You did, didn't you?"

"I didn't mean to," George moaned. "It just sort of happened. _She _wanted it."

"She was _Fred's_ girlfriend," hissed Ron.

"I know, I know."

"You took advantage of her," Ron raised his voice and glared at George.

"She wanted to!" protested George.

"Only because you look like Fred!"

"I know! I know!" George buried his face in his arms.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THAT?" Ron shouted.

"BECAUSE SHE'S THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS!" George shouted back. "She's the only one who misses him like I do. They broke up, but it was never Lee. He knew it. He knew she'd go back to Fred. She always did. This is killing her Ron, just like it's killing me." There were tears running down George's face as he looked up at Ron.

"But why?" asked Ron. "If you know it's Fred she wants, why would you do this to her?"

"Because this is the only way I can _feel_," sobbed George. "Nothing means anything any more. I pretend that it does; but really, no one needs me anymore, not the way Fred needed me. We needed each other. I don't feel like getting up in the morning. I don't feel like coming into the shop. I don't feel like eating. I don't feel like anything.

"And even though I can't feel anything, it still hurts! It's bloody unfair! How can I not _feel_ anything and still _hurt_? She's hurting too Ron and I made it go away. How can that be wrong? I felt _good_ for the first time in ages and she needed me. Somebody _needed_ me. She wanted to, I swear. I didn't force her."

"I never thought you did," said Ron quietly.

"First we cried," George stared into the distance. "Made a great blubbering mess all over the Hogs Head. Aberforth told us if we were going to make that much noise we could go somewhere else. So we bought a couple bottles of Firewhisky and came back here. Merlin, the flat's a mess. I think we passed out in the sitting room. I woke up there the next morning anyway; head pounding like Hagrid was beating on the door. Angie wasn't much better off, but I heard you come in to open up the shop so we grabbed the last bottle and Apparated to Angie's place.

"Seemed to her if we kept drinking the headache might go away, so we did and that's … that's when …"

"If you hadn't been completely pissed out of your gourd, would you have …" Ron gestured with his hands. George smirked at him.

"Done the deed? Danced the horizontal tango?"

"Ugh, you make it sound so …" Ron shuddered, "tawdry."

"It wasn't like that," George said, suddenly serious. "Even though I was pissed out of my skull, I think it was the most meaningful … well the most meaningful _time_ I've had."

"If you were that drunk, can you even remember how meaningful it was?"

"Well, sure I don't remember a lot of the first time," George admitted. "That one's a bit hazy, but we started drinking less and … well, making love more." Harry shifted uncomfortably by the door.

"That's a bit, um … it's a bit meaningful," muttered Ron.

"But it was, Ron, it was," George said urgently. "I felt … whole again for a while. She made me feel something and it wasn't pain."

"And then you sobered up, didn't you?"

"Yeah," George breathed out a heavy sigh. "Oh Merlin, Ron, she doesn't feel the same way. She doesn't want me, she wants Fred. What have I done? How could I _do_ this to her? Just to try and make myself feel better? Because I can't; I can't feel better. I can never feel whole."

"But you said you did with her," argued Ron. "You _said_ she made you feel whole."

"I can't," muttered George shaking his head. "I can't do it to her, she deserves better than me. I'm only half a person. I left. I left about two days ago and came back here. I couldn't face her. I couldn't face _you_."

"So you put on that silly front and tried to make yourself look, what … sane?" scoffed Ron. "I told you. I'm not that stupid."

"Ron," George said suddenly. "What am I going to do?" Ron shrugged.

"I don't know," he said.

"But you have heaps of practice at stuffing things up with a girl!" George turned to him, pleading. Ron pushed him on the shoulder.

"You idiot," he said but he was almost smiling. "I think you need to talk to Dad." George shook his head frantically.

"No, he'll tell Mum!"

"And she'll look at you with that face …" Both of them shivered.

"Definitely not," murmured George.

"Bill," said Ron decisively. "You need to talk to Bill."

"Really?" grimaced George. "He's very … proper. What about Charlie?" He finished with a hopeful look on his face. Ron shook his head.

"Nah, Charlie's no good," said Ron pensively. "He spends too much time with dragons; he can't tell you anything about women. Now Percy …" The two brothers looked at each other and shook their heads simultaneously.

"That leaves you or …" George swivelled to look at Harry. He eyed him for a moment before shaking his head. "It leaves Bill."

************************

Lavender was standing in the Ministry Atrium when Harry, Ron and Hermione arrived the following Saturday. She looked almost as frail as she had when Harry had seen her the week before, but in her eyes there was something more, a spark of renewed vigour; of determination.

"I hope you don't mind I came," she said nervously, twisting her robes between her fingers. "Parvati said Ron dropped a note in about a hearing about … it today I … I had to come." She was looking at Harry but they all knew she was talking to Hermione.

"It's good that you came," Hermione reassured her quietly. "Harry told me about your uncle. It will probably make him nervous if he sees you there and you'll … need to deal with things. You can sit with Ron and Harry. Kingsley asked me to meet with him about my research. I think he wants me to help present something."

"I didn't know that," said Ron. Hermione nodded, her eyes gleaming.

"Isn't it great? He sent me an Owl last night," she said. "I'd better go. You can look after Lavender, can't you?" She kissed him briefly on the cheek, patted Harry's arm and strode confidently towards the lifts.

"Well, we'd better go to the courtroom, I suppose," Ron said eventually.

"I need to wait here for Andromeda," answered Harry. Ron shrugged and the three of them stood awkwardly in the Atrium for several long and uncomfortable minutes. Ron stared intently at the floor and Lavender began inspecting her robes, intermittently plucking off something miniscule that Harry assumed was fluff.

He wondered how Hermione had seemed so at ease when Ron and Lavender were still unable to even look at each other. He knew something of how hard it was to deal with a relationship that had ended. He was still uneasy around Cho because she had a tendency to act unpredictably, but his actual feelings for her had simply faded. His break up with Ginny had been different because neither of them had wanted to be apart.

Harry had little experience with the type of palpable tension that currently existed between Ron and Lavender. It was a sort of undefinable feeling that something wasn't quite finished. As if they didn't know how to behave at all.

Harry reflected rather bitterly that perhaps he understood it more than he was willing to admit. The rather vague sort of feeling that one did not know where to put oneself and what gestures would be welcomed was one he had become increasingly familiar with all week. He had left Weasley's Wizard Wheezes last Friday with a lecture from Bill ringing in his ears. It had not been enough for Bill to berate George for his incredibly short-sighted and stupid behaviour. Bill had lined up all three of them and given them a lecture about respecting women.

Harry had attempted to beg off under the guise of not actually being of Weasley blood, but had to abandon all thoughts of escape when George fixed him with a piercing glare and Ron grabbed the back of his robes, pinning him in place. While Bill began an impassioned plea for the three of them to wholly respect the women in their lives, Ron had pulled Harry surreptitiously closer.

"You are not getting out of it mate," he had muttered under his breath. "If I have to listen because George has been a git, so do you."

Harry had actually left feeling rather enthusiastic about showing Ginny how much he loved her, but the woman in question and been in an intolerable mood all week. Her disposition had not, in fact, improved with the production of Honeyduke's finest and when Harry got shouted at on Thursday morning simply for chewing too loudly, George and Ron received a Howler. Harry tried to spend time with Hagrid in an effort to stay out of Ginny's way, but the groundskeeper kept refusing to let him in.

"Go an' enjoy th' bracin' mountain air," said Hagrid, overly casually. "Afore it gets too cold; off you go." He slapped Harry on the back, giving him a not so gentle push as he did so, sending him stumbling onto the path to the lake.

Professor Fiesche had continued to glare at Harry while being perfectly pleasant to everyone else and Draco Malfoy had ceased any pretence of convivial feeling, scowling at Harry across the table during Potions and making sarcastic remarks as he watched the seventh year Defence students practice basic duelling. A troupe of third year students took to following Harry around and asking when he was planning to have Quidditch try-outs. Every time he turned around he stumbled over one of them or the awed first and second years who seemed to stop stock-still in the middle of corridors and passageways whenever he walked past. On more than one occasion Ginny had growled at the younger students and extricated herself before stalking off. If Hermione was with him she was more amused than annoyed.

Harry had tried to ask Hermione if she had any ideas about why Ginny was so irritable and snapping at anyone who looked at her, but Hermione had been a frazzled whirlwind. She wandered the castle with quills and bits of parchment sticking out of her pockets and her nose in dusty books from the Restricted Section. She continually pressed hastily scribbled notes about werewolves and wolfsbane into his hands and demanded attention to things Harry only barely understood.

"Don't you think this is a good precedent, Harry?" she pressed him one day. She had shoved a book under his nose at the lunch table and nearly sent a jug of pumpkin juice flying. Neville's quick thinking had stopped it careening into Ginny's lap. Harry shot Neville a grateful look. Neville shrugged and nodded before returning to his food. Harry had been in the library with Hermione the night before. Dean told him that Ginny had bawled Neville and Dennis Creevey out for turning pages too loudly in the common room. Harry figured Neville was alert to the tightly strung ball of tension that was Ginny Weasley.

Harry tried to pay attention to Hermione as he watched Ginny eat. She was pale and scowling as she played with the food on her plate. Harry muttered agreements to Hermione as she prattled, but his attention was on Ginny. She looked up and he smiled tentatively. Ginny just sighed and gathered her bag up. Harry grasped her hand before she could leave.

"All right, Ginny?" he asked softly. He noticed that everyone was carefully eating or had started very animated and involved conversations. Ginny looked around slowly before she nodded.

"I'm fine," she muttered, "library." Then she was gone. And so as he stood watching Ron and Lavender shift uncomfortably as if there was a hippogriff in the room, Harry wondered if it felt like he had all week. Like he was standing just a little left of where he should be, in a slowly thickening mist and unable to move into the right spot to see clearly or know what to say.

Ron had begun tapping his wand nervously against his leg when Bill and Fleur arrived. To Harry's surprise Fleur was carrying Teddy perched on one hip, looking around curiously. He had one fist in his mouth and drool was slowly sliding down into his cuff. Ron looked at Bill and Fleur as if their entrance was water to a drowning man.

"Hi Bill!" he called exuberantly, dropping his wand with a loud clatter. Teddy jumped at the commotion.

"Hello Ron," said Bill with an amused smirk. "Andromeda just stopped at … well she'll erm, be here in a minute, Harry."

"What's Teddy doing here?" asked Harry staring at the baby. "This is no place for Teddy." Little chubby baby fists stopped trying to grab at Fleur's long hair as Harry spoke and Teddy twisted himself around in her grasp.

"Mum's taking him for the day," explained Bill. "Kreacher is perfectly capable but Mum … well ..."

"She wants grandchildren," interjected Ron. Bill rolled his eyes.

"Da!" Teddy cried. "Ba! Da!" He squirmed in Fleur's arms, his drool-drenched fist waving in the air and his hair slowly turning black. Harry reached out for the baby who threw himself bodily in Harry's direction, squealing. Harry grimaced as one soggy fist swiped at his face.

"Did he just call you 'Da'?" Bill smirked.

"He calls everybody 'Da'!" exclaimed Harry, wiping his face with difficulty as Teddy bounced on his other arm, grasping at Harry's neck. "Watch … who's this Teddy?" Harry pointed in Bill's direction. Teddy stopped bouncing and stared solemnly at Bill for a moment.

"Da!" the baby proclaimed. "Da, da, da!" Harry turned in Lavender's direction

"Who's that, Teddy?"

"Da! Da!" squealed Teddy. "Ba da la!"

"See," said Harry smugly as Teddy turned to him and grabbed at his cheek with one pudgy hand. "Everybody is 'Da'."

"Yeah, but not everybody gets that cuddle," said Ron as Teddy lay his head on Harry's shoulder and stuffed his fist back into his mouth. "That, he reserves for you." Harry looked down at the soft downy head and smiled as he dropped a kiss there.

"I know," he said softly and Teddy sighed and closed his eyes.

"That just makes me all clucky," said Lavender.

"Oui," murmured Fleur, "and you weel make a good father for Ginny's babies." She turned at looked at Bill suggestively.

"What?" he asked her.

" C'est trop mauvais étaient debout dans le Ministère parce que je suis si allumé en ce moment je pourrais vous faire l'amour et faire vos beaux bébés pendant toute la nuit," purred Fleur. Bill blushed profusely and shifted behind his wife before clearing his throat with difficulty.

"Where's Ginny?" he asked Harry, his voice cracking on the first syllable. Ron shared a brief glance with Lavender and rolled his eyes at her. Lavender giggled.

"Um, well … McGonagall," said Harry. "She … with me and Hermione leaving Hogwarts for the day she wasn't about to let one of the Prefects leave if the Head Boy and Girl were both gone. She and Neville have the unenviable task of supervising the Quidditch pitch. Dennis Creevey offered to help some of the first years practice their flying." Ron laughed.

"So you mean Ginny's supervising?" he chuckled. "What's Neville going to do? Show them how not to fall off?"

"Ron!" gasped Lavender. "Don't be so mean! Neville is a very accomplished wizard."

"Yeah, but not with his broomstick," sniggered Ron.

"Oh what would you know," Lavender scoffed. "He's a little better at flying than he was in first year!"

"Oho, sounds like you know him _much_ better," smirked Ron.

"Shut up, Weasley," muttered Lavender.

"Oh come on," Ron said, swinging and arm around her shoulders casually. "Don't be like that." Lavender stiffened slightly as he made contact with her left shoulder, but she didn't move away.

"Like what?" she mumbled. Ron didn't answer her. He steered her in the direction of the lifts.

"Come on, let's go get a seat so we can watch Harry make funny faces at the baby while Hermione tells your uncle to just get -"

"Ronald Weasley! Language!" A harried voice came from the opposite direction. Molly and Andromeda were hurrying towards them. "Stop that thought, right there. Harry dear, lovely to see you. Now where is this gorgeous boy?" She lifted Teddy out of Harry's arms and the baby grabbed at her red curls.

"Da!" he said proudly. "Daaaa!"

"Oh I think he called me 'Nan'," said Molly. Andromeda chuckled as she handed Molly a large bag.

"He calls everyone that," she said smiling. "If I listen closely it sounds like Gran some days."

"Well, young Teddy," said Molly turning her attention back to the baby. "Let's go and see what mischief you can get up to with Nanna Molly. Say bye-bye to Gran." Teddy waved a little fist.

"Ba!" he called.

"See," smirked Ron. "She wants grandchildren."

"Not from you, Ronald Weasley," said Molly severely. Ron turned alternately white and then red as her words sunk in. His mother ignored him and turned to Andromeda. "Now don't you worry, Teddy and I will be just fine." Andromeda nodded.

"Thank you, Molly," she said. Molly nodded briskly at them before she set off for the entrance, chattering away to Teddy.

"Okay, now we can go," said Ron impatiently. He turned to Lavender, his earlier awkwardness vanished. "So, if I come into the shop this week, could you do me a reading? I rather fancy knowing what my tea leaves might say."

"You hate Divination," retorted Lavender.

"No I don't," protested Ron. "It's dead useful."

"I know you're just trying to make me feel better," she said.

"Is it working?" Ron asked. Lavender smiled.

"Yeah."


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N: Thank you all for your reviews, alerts, etc. It's wonderful to know how many people enjoy the story. I don't get time to answer many of the reviews but I do read and appreciate all of them, so thank you!**

**Chapter 33. Frustration**

Harry arrived back at Hogwarts alone as Hermione had gone off somewhere with Ron to celebrate her birthday. She had invited Harry to join them but Harry had declined, laughing out loud at the look on Ron's face.

"I'll see you back at Hogwarts, Hermione," he said. "Happy birthday and … thanks." Harry reflected that he'd probably surprised Hermione, as well as himself, when he'd engulfed her in a hug. In a choked voice he told her he could never repay her for what she'd just achieved. Hermione had blushed prettily.

"Oh Harry, you should know by now," she said, looking at him solemnly. "We would do anything for you."

"Still," Harry insisted. "I'll do anything for Teddy, and-"

"Harry," interrupted Ron, "your problems are our problems."

"It's probably not over," Hermione said softly. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Now get going, you need to talk to Ginny." Ron gave Hermione a sharp look as Harry turned and Disapparated.

Harry missed Ginny. It was that simple. He'd been preoccupied with other things and had other students and professors demanding his time. However, he knew Ginny wasn't just pouting over that. It wasn't the sort of thing that bothered Ginny, besides she had been snapping at everyone, not just him. Dean had suggested one night that it was simply women's problems and Hermione had told him off soundly and actually sent him to his room. Dean spent the rest of the week warning all of the boys not to annoy the Head Girl if they wanted to keep their manhood. Harry hadn't paid any attention to Dean anyway.

Wishing he had the map to tell him where he could find Ginny, Harry wandered aimlessly up to the Quidditch Pitch. She might still be there. Harry couldn't put his finger on when she'd started acting strangely. Ginny had just become gradually more withdrawn. Harry cursed himself for not paying attention earlier. She'd been annoyed when he went to see Ron the week before and he had attributed it to what George insisted on referring to as the 'monthly dragon'. Harry could no longer pretend that Ginny was simply irritable due to … well hormones. Harry grimaced as he wondered for the hundredth time how he was supposed to refer to … these things.

He sighed heavily as he pushed open the door to the Gryffindor Quidditch changing room. He wanted to talk to Ginny, tell her his good news and Merlin, he wanted to kiss her. In fact, if he was honest with himself he wanted to do more than kiss her. Thoughts of her crept into his mind several times a day and he'd awoken from more than one dream feeling particularly flushed. Ginny had apparently been too busy to spare him more than a peck on the cheek. Everyone had been looking at him sympathetically for days now. _'Not in the mood'_, Ginny said last night and picked up a book, retreating to her dorm room. Seamus muttered that she _was_ in a mood; it just wasn't a friendly one.

Harry stopped in front of his old locker. The words _'Harry Potter, Seeker, Captain' _still gleamed brightly across the door. He reached out and traced the letters thinking how awed he'd been the first time he had seen his name etched there. It had been a lot further above his head then. Now the words were at eye level. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around at the semi-dark room. A lone lamp flickered on one wall and Harry lit another before taking a look around. One of Oliver's old battle plans leant against one of the walls. It was covered in graffiti that Harry recognised as Fred and George's writing. A banner hung limply above it, a Lion asleep in the top corner. There were a couple of practice brooms leaning in one corner. A pair of beaters gloves stuck out of the top of the locker marked Peakes and a Quaffle sat on one of the benches.

A set of discarded Quidditch robes were draped over the back of a chair. They hadn't cleaned up very well after the match they'd played right after the battle; the game they'd played for Fred. The house-elves obviously hadn't done so either. There had been a lot to do at the castle it was no surprise the Quidditch changing rooms were left uncleaned. Harry sighed heavily as he picked up the robes and threw them in the hamper in the corner. He stowed the Quaffle in the box at the bottom of the broom cupboard before stuffing the brooms inside. As he straightened the limp banner a practice Snitch lazily flew out of its folds. Harry half-heartedly snatched at it but it darted out of his reach and fluttered up to sit on top of his locker. Harry shook his head; his earlier good mood dissipated, sucked away by the stale air in the Gryffindor locker room with its memories of the last seven years.

Well six really; he had no memories from last year, Harry reflected bitterly. He sighed heavily and flopped back on one of the benches and stared up at the ceiling absently. The faint scent of sweaty bodies and unwashed socks lingered in the air, embedded in the fabric of the room. The Snitch fluttered lazily off the top of his locker and buzzed above his head. Harry amused himself by watching it dart about as if tempting him to jump up and catch it. His mind wandered back to Ginny. Harry cursed himself for being too busy to stop and find out what was bothering her. Chocolate fixed only some things.

Taking a deep breath, Harry hauled himself off the bench and headed for the exit. The Snitch flew past him as he put one hand on the door and he snatched the whirling golden ball out of the air with his other hand. A smile played on his lips as he let the door bang shut behind him and stepped out onto the pitch.

Darkness was falling and Harry knew that the chance of Ginny still being on the pitch was slim but he just wanted to stand there for a moment. The wings of the Snitch fluttered against his hand and he let it go, watching as it flew off into the stands. Harry stared up at the hoops and listened to the faded echo of years of games; the students cheering, the players furiously battling for dominance. Suddenly Harry couldn't imagine this properly fulfilling his life. Flying was his passion and he and Ron had dreamed of being professional Quidditch stars. Quidditch wasn't what Harry wanted any more. He didn't want to be in the spotlight; the people cheering for him, constantly under scrutiny the way sports stars often were. The idea was unsettling. Harry wanted to do something where he could go about his life without a camera in his face; something where he could help people.

Harry wanted to keep fighting. There were still too many wrongs in the world. The Ministry was still fragile and full of fear. The world needed to be made safe for Teddy and all the other children who had been left without parents by the brutal and bloody war. Harry fingered the Auror badge in his pocket. Quidditch was brilliant but it wasn't where he was supposed to be. Harry pictured the smiling couple in the Muggle photograph on his bedside table and he heard his father saying they were proud of him. He didn't have to do anything else – not to make them proud; not to make their sacrifice a worthy one. One by one the faded images of his parents, his godfather and Remus fluttered through Harry's mind as he stood on the silent Quidditch pitch. They weren't the real, almost solid images from the stone, just an echo of his memory, unmoving and silent. Harry stared into the distance. Would he honour Sirius's and Remus's sacrifice by pretending his job was done? They were gone now and only Harry was left.

Standing in the middle of the empty Quidditch pitch Harry felt the enormity of being alone. A breeze ruffled his hair, blowing away the last glimpses in his mind's eye of his mother, father and godfather. The Snitch winked back into his sight; it seemed to bring Remus with it until he, too, faded back into the comfortable places in Harry's mind. The last thing Remus said to him was that he tried to make a world in which Teddy could be happier. Harry wasn't alone. Remus had left Teddy behind and now it was Harry's job to make the world a happy place for Teddy.

"It's you and me, kid," Harry whispered to Teddy on the empty pitch. "We've still got time to make our dads proud." Harry patted his Auror badge; his decision made. He thought wryly that everyone else had seen it coming before he did – seen what he would choose to do. He didn't have to do anything anymore, but he wanted to.

Harry shivered as a cool wind whipped around the stadium, the light breeze had been only a warning that the wind was about to pick up. It wove icy fingers through his hair and burrowed beneath his cloak, seeking to find its way to his skin to suck out the warmth. Scanning the pitch for the practice Snitch, Harry pulled his cloak around his body and squinted. Unable to see more than a few feet in front of him in the gathering gloom he pulled out his wand.

"_Lumos_," he muttered, sweeping it in a wide arc in an attempt to find the elusive golden ball. A sudden movement caught his eye. At first he thought it was the Snitch but then he realised that the glint was more red than gold; sitting up in the bottom row of the stands was Ginny Weasley.

She shifted slightly as Harry's wand-light rested on her for a moment before he lowered it.

"_Nox_," he murmured. He stood uncertainly for a moment before turning to make his way across the pitch and up to the spot in the stands where Ginny sat. Harry lowered himself onto the seat beside her. The two of them sat there, not touching, in silence, as the sky grew darker and the stars began to come out.

"You're probably missing dinner," Ginny said quietly after a long time. It was long enough that Harry's fingers had gone numb and he could barely feel his toes as he sat motionless in the stands.

"Oh, what's a little food here and there," shrugged Harry. "Food's overrated."

"You never miss meals," said Ginny.

"First time for everything," replied Harry, feeling slightly desperate that he had nothing more important to say. The Snitch whizzed by and Harry followed it with is eyes until it vanished into the darkness. His eyes rested on Ginny who stared across the pitch, unseeing, her eyes glazing over. She looked lost and her teeth were chattering. Harry pulled out his wand and cast a warming charm over them both, cursing himself for not doing it sooner. It wasn't very effective but it would be better than nothing since Ginny insisted on sitting out here in the cold.

"It's getting cold," he said unnecessarily. Ginny nodded absently. Harry twirled his wand thoughtfully, peering at Ginny in the dim light. She stared straight ahead, her hands relentlessly twisting in the hem of her sleeves.

"_Lumos_," muttered Harry again, throwing the light on Ginny's face. She flinched a little at the light but remained silent. "You've not been sleeping properly." Harry saw the shadows under her eyes and the glassy stare as he eyes looked vacantly over the grassy pitch. Ginny shook her head slowly.

"I have a lot of work to do," she murmured. Harry waited for her to continue but she did not say anything more.

"Ginny …" Harry trailed off. He had no idea what to say. Ginny turned to look at him and shifted her features into a grimace that Harry was sure was supposed to be a smile.

"You don't want to miss any more of dinner," she said. "If you hurry you could get pudding."

"I'm not going anywhere," Harry insisted. "Not without you. What is going on Ginny?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," Ginny insisted, "taking a breather … just a bit busy that's all."

"Busy with what?" pressed Harry. She seemed oddly distant and he struggled to understand what was going through her mind.

"Just … things …" Ginny waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the castle. "Don't worry about it." The frustration of the last couple of weeks caught up with Harry and he ran his hand raggedly through his hair.

"Don't worry about it?" he asked her incredulously waving his lit wand erratically. "We've been through this. I get to worry, okay?" Ginny shook her head.

"You have enough to worry about," she said quietly. Harry made an exasperated noise halfway between a sigh and a snort.

"Yes, I do," he ground out, "and right now one of them is _you_. You've been moody and distant and snappy."

"Full of compliments aren't you?" Ginny snapped. "Would you like to pass comment on my hair or dress sense while you are at it?" Harry groaned.

"Why would I do that?" he asked, not really expecting an answer. Ginny continued as if he had not spoken.

"Still, I don't know that I can expect anything more," she said bitterly. "You _are_ male." Harry gaped at her; never had Ginny been the type of girl who exhibited such blatant sexism. He expected it from Ron and George, the off colour jokes and the silly comments that didn't really mean anything but this was entirely unexpected and completely out of character.

"You always _liked_ that about me," he attempted a joke but Ginny wasn't laughing.

"If I am so unpleasant, why are you here?" she asked him pointedly. Harry shook his head with resignation and cancelled the _Lumos_, plunging them into darkness.

"I didn't say you were unpleasant," he sad quietly.

"But I am," Ginny whispered. She sounded so lost and Harry couldn't bear it any more. Risking physical injury, he pocketed his wand and reached out to pull her to him. She resisted for only a moment before she wound her arms around his neck with a sob and crawled into his lap. Harry held her close while she cried, feeling the tension drain out of her and her body going limp, moulding to his own.

He ran his hands soothingly up and down her back and stroked her hair whispering nonsense to her the way he did to Teddy whenever the baby fussed. Harry pulled his cloak around the two of them, stretching it as far as he could. He had no idea how long Ginny cried but he was almost completely numb with cold by the time he realised she was breathing the deep, even breath of sleep.

It was with difficulty that he managed to get to his feet and shuffled down from the Quidditch stands. He knew he could not make it back to the castle carrying Ginny so he stumbled into the Gryffindor change rooms instead. He didn't know whether to laugh or curse when he saw the practice Snitch hovering by the door. It zoomed in when he pushed the door open with his shoulder. He then suspected it had a Homing Charm on it in case the training Seeker was really that bad at catching the Snitch.

Harry lay Ginny down on one of the benches and covered her with his cloak, using a set of Quidditch robes snatched from his own locker as a pillow. Harry sat down on the floor next to her and smoothed the hair back from her face. Now that he had some measure of light he could see just how pale she was. She was frowning slightly in her sleep and Harry traced her features with his fingertips partly to remind himself what she felt like and partly to smooth away the frown lines on her forehead. That she had not woken during all the movement told Harry just how tired she must be and how much sleep she had been missing trying to catch up.

He bent to kiss her softly and she whimpered as his lips left her skin, her brow furrowing again. Harry stroked his fingers through her hair and whispered to her until the lines melted away. He stayed there, watching over her as she slept, knowing this was the first time she'd slept properly in a while, the shadows under her eyes and her pallor indicated she'd not been coping with something. Either she was very good at hiding it or Harry really hadn't noticed. He felt ill at the thought.

Maybe she had a right to be mad at him. He had been rather busy. After the first few days of awed admiration from afar the younger students had taken to flocking around Harry like baby Thestrals around a piece of raw meat. Harry made a silent list in his head of all the demands on his time and realised that although she hadn't complained, Ginny had started to slip further and further down the list.

Hermione wanted him to read books about werewolves, professors wanted his opinion on various small problems and other students constantly asked him questions. Seamus and Dean had engaged him in more than one activity during his spare time and even Dora had probably gotten more time than Ginny. How had so many people been able to put their demands before her? Harry's heart clenched as he looked down at his girlfriend. She looked so frail and small. He made a silent vow with himself to be more attentive from now on and he started by sitting up to watch over her while she slept.

*****************

Harry awoke slumped over next to the bench on which Ginny lay, still sleeping soundly. She looked a little more peaceful now, as if the sleep had worked its magic and made her less careworn and more serene. He sat up and rubbed his neck. It made a rasping sound in the stillness. He checked his watch. They hadn't been asleep long; there was still time to get back to the castle before curfew.

"Ginny," Harry said quietly. "Wake up." She mumbled a little and turned over. Harry tried again and Ginny finally woke up and looked at him blearily.

"I'm mad at you," she mumbled.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I didn't mean-"

"No, I'm sorry," Ginny interrupted, sitting up abruptly. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you." Harry reached out a hand and ran it through her hair.

"I've been busy," he said. "I didn't mean to … forget about you."

"You didn't," Ginny shook her head.

"What's been going on?" Harry pressed when Ginny stopped talking. Ginny sighed and looked down at her hands, her hair falling around her face. Harry lifted himself up to sit on the bench.

"Just a bit of … well, I have a lot of work to do and I was having trouble keeping up," she said, still not looking at him. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I think it's a bit more than that," he said. "You blamed me for being _male_." Ginny winced.

"I know, I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just … I didn't … sorry." Harry reached out and pushed her hair back.

"Ginny," he pleaded. "What is it, really? Dean's a fan of the um … hormones theory but I know I isn't that." She looked up at him then.

"I'm so far behind," she said. "I don't think I learnt a single thing last year. Now I'm trying to do seventh year and I didn't really do my sixth." Harry hadn't even thought about that. Ginny continued.

"Luna's all right," Ginny stared absently at the Lion snoring on the banner. "She missed half the year but not only did she spend the summer studying but Neville's helping her. The Ravenclaws have got a study group going in any case, for people who need a bit of catching up but … I think the only person who missed as much school as me was Neville and he got a sixth year – however badly it ended."

"I can help," Harry started. "Well … Hermione-"

"Has been busy with you," Ginny smiled and put a soft hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

"Don't be," Ginny said. "I know what you are both doing is important. I'm just being selfish."

"No, you're not," said Harry. He turned to face her directly, clutching both her hands in his. "I have been preoccupied. I have been busy and the younger kids … well they're over their shyness aren't they? But none of it's been so important that I couldn't be with you. When was the last time I told everyone else to bugger off so I could spend time with my girl?"

"But Teddy-"

"Is safe now," Harry assured her. "You should have seen Hermione. She was brilliant. Moses Brown tried to say how there was no way of knowing if a werewolf offspring would be a werewolf and it was better to be safe than sorry and Hermione just hauled out all these case studies and some sort of genetic thing that Pomfrey signed off on for her as being correct and ... well I didn't understand half of it but you should have seen _Ron_. He just stared at her the whole time with this goofy grin on his face. He kept turning to me and whispering 'isn't she brilliant?' Like I don't know that, you know."

"She convinced them then?"

"Oh yeah," said Harry enthusiastically. "Did you know that studies of werewolf descendants are really sparse because, well … no one wants to admit their parent is a werewolf – not with the bad rap they get. Hermione found all these case studies that some Healer had done at St Mungo's about how lycanthropy is transmitted and not a single person ever inherited it. She blew that myth completely out of the water with all these charts and graphs and things. Everyone who is a werewolf is one because they were bitten and infected. Old Moses didn't know what hit him.

"He tried to claim something about how it runs in families and that's when Hermione just hit him between the eyes. 'Of course it would!' she says, 'because no one does anything for werewolves except shun them. How many werewolves get out and hurt their own families because there is no support for Wolfsbane or assistance to contain them appropriately in their own homes?' I'm telling you Ginny, she was brilliant; it was like watching an artist or something.

"Not only did she prove that lycanthropy isn't inherited, but she made a case for werewolf rights and treatment as well! Kingsley is sure to offer her a job after this. She would be brilliant arguing cases before the Wizengamot, but I reckon she wants to advocate first. Probably go to the Department for Magical Creatures."

"She's going to try and make us join Spew again isn't she?"

"Merlin, I hope not."

"It sounds like everything went well then," Ginny mused. "Bill must be pleased."

"Well, erm, not as such," Harry squirmed. "Hermione did a fantastic job proving lycanthropy isn't inherited, but the Wizengamot probably wasn't convinced that those attacked like Bill and Lavender aren't going to turn. The fellow from the Department for Magical Creatures made it sound like Hermione's facts about transmission meant people like Bill and Lavender were about to turn into werewolves."

"So, they still want to lock Bill up?"

"Yeah, nearly half the Wizengamot," admitted Harry. "But they can't. It didn't pass. Brown's not giving up, though. He managed to get some sort of thing passed to inspect medical records or something. They're 'still investigating', whatever that means."

"Poor Bill," murmured Ginny.

"I'll say. He looked furious," Harry said. "Fleur calmed him down. I do _not_ want to know what they were going to do when they got home. I swear she was all over him like a rash like she used to be, that summer at the Burrow." Harry shuddered.

"Well at least they're entitled, I suppose," Ginny muttered, her face darkening. Harry looked at her sideways.

"Entitled?"

"To shag," Ginny replied shortly, throwing his cloak off her legs and standing up.

"Erm …" said Harry eloquently.

"Some of us are not, and should not be entitled to such … behaviour," Ginny muttered as she straightened her clothing. Harry gulped. She knew George had been encouraging him and somehow, she'd seen into his head and knew Harry wanted to act on the increasingly intense thoughts he kept hidden there. Someone must have been teaching her Legilimency.

"Absolutely," he murmured, standing up and trying to look innocent, "definitely not."

"Oh don't give me that," Ginny glared at him, arms crossed. "You knew and you didn't say anything."

"Knew?" parroted Harry; he was a bit confused because they'd talked about George and his bet. "Of course I knew. _You_ knew I knew." Ginny rolled her eyes at him.

"Well you never said anything to me," she huffed. "What do you mean I knew?"

"We talked about it that day on the stairs," stammered Harry. He remembered telling her George was running a book, that George was … encouraging.

"You haven't had more than five minutes for me all week and you used every single one of them to try and grope me," Ginny accused. "When did we ever talk about this?"

"In the summer," Harry sighed. She had to know, he wasn't exactly … subtle about things, not the way his body reacted towards her. It was almost as if she was talking about something or someone else.

"The summer?" Ginny almost screeched. "This has been going on since summer?" Harry stared at her.

"Well, yeah," he shrugged, thinking back to all he had endured that summer regarding his intentions. "There were a few rough patches and a couple death glares but George is fine with it now."

"George?" echoed Ginny. "George is _fine_ with this now?"

"Yes, well, he is," Harry insisted. "Ron is not so much. He knows it's inevitable but I think he's fighting it."

"Ron knows as well?"

"Well, sort of," Harry glanced away. "He doesn't know all the details, that'd just be too weird."

"And I suppose Bill knows too?" scoffed Ginny. "And probably Percy and Charlie as well; I knew it was too good to be true, it's some sick male game that you play!"

"Don't be daft!" Harry exclaimed. "There's no way Percy's heard about it, but, yeah I think Bill and Charlie ... George told them something, not sure what exactly. They've not been openly hostile; which is a good thing."

"Well, you'd think Bill would have more sense," grunted Ginny.

"It's not like he doesn't understand-"

"Understand?" Ginny looked at him incredulously. "How could _anyone_ possibly understand this?"

"It's a perfectly normal reaction and you've never minded before," pleaded Harry. This was not going at all how he'd hoped. He was trying to get closer to her, not turn her off him for good. Ginny didn't appear to be listening to him.

"Never have I met such complete insensitivity from those bunch of … of … galahs before!"

"Galahs?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Picked up some of the Australian slang, huh?" Ginny glowered at him.

"Stay on topic, Potter," she said coolly.

"Sorry," he muttered, immediately penitent. "Look, it doesn't mean anything-"

"Well that's just lovely," said Ginny sarcastically. "What if it means something to _her_?"

"Well, it does mean something, but it's something good," Harry tried desperately. "It's flattering … to get that sort of reaction from a bloke." Ginny stared at him as if she was going to bore a hole through his skull.

"Flattering?" she screeched. "You believe this sort of carry on is flattering? Which cave did you wander out of?"

"Hey!" Harry protested.

"At least Bill married his fling, I suppose," Ginny muttered angrily. "I'm not sure he waited but at least he had enough respect …"

"If you want to wait until we get married, that's fine," babbled Harry. "In fact, your dad suggested it and he's very smart, your dad. We should probably take his advice." Ginny stared up at him.

"Are you completely insane?" she asked him. "You honestly think I am going to wait much longer?"

"But …" Harry sank onto the bench and absentmindedly began to fold his abandoned cloak. "You just all but told me I have a filthy mind. I don't mean to think about you that way, it just happens. It's been happening for nearly two years and I can't just switch it off. I don't even know what switched it on. It's probably your hair … or your smell. I love the way you smell and I love watching you fly. I wish I could have watched you fly today. You look brilliant on a broom and your hair just streams out behind you and it's like a red streak across the sky and when you've finished you always look all flushed and excited like flying and Quidditch are the best things in the world.

"Flying _is_ the best feeling in the world, but I don't want to do that, I'm going to be an Auror, but you probably knew that. Everybody knew that except me I think. But oh, I want to see you fly. I could spend almost all my time just watching you fly. You're so graceful and the way you throw the Quaffle with your gorgeous hands and I want to spend more time with you because I love how your feet fit so perfectly on the ends of your legs – not that there is anything wrong with your legs, but Merlin, one of the best things about living at your house is watching you walk around barefoot. It's sort of intimate, you know. I mean you don't just walk around without shoes on in front of anybody. I've missed your feet, and I know that sounds silly but I can't help it.

"See, now you know, I've secretly been harbouring feelings for your feet and that's just all kinds of weird. I can see why you'd be entirely grossed out. To hear that revelation on top of finding out exactly what goes through my head while I'm kissing you or if I think of you. Yes, I even think it while I am looking at your feet – oh, no wonder you've been pissed."

"Harry," said Ginny calmly, although she looked rather flushed. "I think perhaps _you_ are pissed. Have you and Ron been at the Firewhisky?"

"I don't want to switch it off," Harry told her desperately. He stood up and took a step towards her nervously. "I can control myself, I swear."

"I know you can," Ginny murmured, rolling her eyes. "Did it ever occur to you, Harry that I don't want you to control yourself?"

"But you … you said there are people who aren't entitled to it," insisted Harry. "I know, and I'm sorry, but you can trust me I won't ever-"

"Oh rubbish, you'd better!" Ginny launched herself at him and he found her lips on his, her tongue tracing delicate patterns on his mouth. Harry gave in with a groan. He'd missed her so much and he cradled her tenderly even though he wanted nothing more than to run his hands over her and memorise every inch of her for later.

He could hear Ginny make a funny little noise in her throat and he trembled, wanting to pull her closer, revelling in the feel of her, the smell of her. He pulled back to place kisses on her cheek, her ear, down her neck …

"Oh, and to think I blamed all of mankind for George's stupidity," Ginny suddenly sighed as her fingers clutched at Harry's shoulders. "And I have been missing out on this …"

"Wait," said Harry, lifting his head. "What has George's stupidity got to do with anything? He runs books on everything, which may not be the strictest of morality, but he's hardly responsible for my depravity."

"Hmpf," Ginny grunted, using her hands to guide Harry back to her neck. "It's not your depravity that concerns me, it's George's."

"Don't think about George," muttered Harry. "Just … just …" but what he had been about to say he had no idea because Ginny chose that moment to press herself against him in an attempt to attack his neck with her lips and his mind went blank. He came back to himself only after he'd lifted her up and pushed her against his locker door. Harry lifted his head and drank in the sight of her, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. He could feel the warmth where she had clasped her legs around his waist and her skirt was pushed alarmingly high on her hips. Harry flushed as he realised he'd been stroking his hands along her thighs.

"Don't …" muttered Ginny, "don't stop …"

"Wait," Harry said, trying to catch his breath and calm his racing heart. "Hang on, why is George stupid?" Ginny moaned.

"I don't want to think about George and Angelina," she murmured against his neck, her fingers tangling loosely in the hair at the base of his neck. Harry pulled back with a gasp and with some effort settled Ginny's feet on the floor. She wasn't very compliant but she must have sensed he was struggling with something and stood in front of him, her head tilted to the side questioningly.

"Have you been talking about George and Angelina," he asked, "the whole time?"

"Yes," Ginny's eyes narrowed, "what did you think I was talking about?"

"I thought … I figured you must have … oh hell," groaned Harry. Ginny giggled. She began tracing the outline of his collarbone.

"Come on," she wheedled, "tell me." Harry's breath hitched as her fingers found his pulse and then strayed southward again.

"I thought … I thought … youweretalkinaboutme," he said as quickly as possible. Ginny raised an eyebrow. Harry took a deep breath and made the effort to speak slower. "You said that some people shouldn't be entitled to shag. Well, its pretty much all I've been thinking about lately and … well ..." He gestured lamely at nothing.

"Have you been thinking about shagging, Harry Potter?" asked Ginny, grinning mischievously. Harry threw her a dark look.

"What do you know about George and Angelina?" was all he said. "How did you find out?"

"Oh, so you do know?" Ginny crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yes, I do, and believe me; he got a not-very-pleasant lecture about his behaviour from Bill," Harry retorted. "I got it too, and believe me he did _not_ go easy!"

"Well," huffed Ginny. "I got an Owl from Angelina on Thursday."

"Oh," Harry gulped and then tried to continue nonchalantly. "I didn't know you and Angelina were friends." Ginny rolled her eyes at him.

"She was my Quidditch Captain once upon a time," she said silkily. "Something happened to her Seeker and I replaced him and we became quite good friends." Harry smiled sheepishly.

"I … well, I knew that. It's just-"

"Girls are different, Harry," Ginny said shortly. Harry nodded and remained silent. "So she and George had an interesting weekend and then he took off. No note, no word, no contact for two days after they shared something so wonderful she was willing to _tell me_ all about how good _my brother_ is at the act of sexual intercourse. I'm telling you, Harry, he's practically a god." Ginny rolled her eyes. Harry shuddered.

"All right, I get the picture," he said hastily.

"So what's he playing at then?" demanded Ginny suddenly. "Since you know so much about it, perhaps you can explain it to me?"

"Well, it's because of Fred," Harry began, running a hand through his hair. "She's Fred's girl."

"Was," said Ginny shortly. "Fred's dead." Harry winced.

"George took advantage of her," Harry sighed. "You should have heard him talk about her. You should have seen him. It was like there was a sort of peace that came over him when he was thinking about her and he even said it; when he was with her he felt whole. He knows he took advantage of the fact he looks like Fred though. It was like … like he grabbed at her because she made him feel, less alone, I suppose. She knows how he feels; she's the only one who knows."

"And he thinks she doesn't want him?" asked Ginny slowly. Harry nodded.

"He feels awful because, well they were drunk and he took advantage of her," he sighed and turned away. "Bill really did have a chat with us, you know. I think George is starting to realise he has to pull himself together before he makes more monumental stuff-ups like that one. I don't think he has the courage to face her and apologise, yet."

"Oh, but it wasn't a stuff-up," cried Ginny. Harry turned to face her again. "It wasn't, Angelina knew exactly what she was doing. She said she felt alive for the first time in ages; like she wasn't just marking time until her own death. She was only drunk the first time! The rest of the time she knew exactly what she was doing, she didn't want it to end and George, that idiot, just upped and left. You know what she's thinking? That George is regretting the whole thing! All she wants is him because he can make her feel whole again. She's devastated."

"So … they feel the same way?" Harry drew his brows together. Ginny nodded.

"She wanted to make a new start," she said quietly. "When George walked out without a word, without a note, he broke her heart all over again. I could see tear stains on the parchment. She wanted to make a new start but she's angry right now because he walked out on her. If he walked in the door tomorrow I don't think she would know whether to hug him or hex him."

"Whole thing's a mess," muttered Harry.

"And that is exactly why some people aren't entitled to shag," added Ginny. "They can't be trusted with their-" Harry covered her mouth with his own. He did not need her to finish that thought.

Ginny responded eagerly and it wasn't long before Harry found himself backed against his locker, his shirt somewhere on the floor and his glasses askew. Somewhere, dimly, in the back of his brain, he realised Ginny had given him the green light to act on all those delicious dreams. His hands had crept halfway up her back, under her shirt and her hands had strayed to his belt when he began to push back until they reached the bench again and stumbled into it, falling over ungracefully. Harry scraped his shins and Ginny lay half on the floor, half on the bench, holding her head and her skirt around her waist.

"Um … maybe … that is," stammered Harry. He stopped, unable to form a coherent sentence. Ginny opened her eyes. She swung her legs down and sat up gingerly.

"Find your shirt, Harry," she said.

"Are you all right?"

"Just find your shirt," she repeated through gritted teeth.

"Okay," Harry replied softly, aware that the moment was probably over.

"This is the Quidditch changing room," Ginny muttered, getting to her feet and pulling her skirt down. "I'm pretty sure I don't want to … experience this for the first time in a smelly room full of Quidditch gear. I mean I know we both love Quidditch, but …" She looked up at him shyly. Harry had pulled his shirt on and was fumbling for the buttons when small hands stopped his progress.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," he said.

"Don't do it up," Ginny said, smiling, running one soft hand inside his shirt and up his chest. "If you leave it open it'll save time."

"But, you just said you don't want to keep going," protested Harry. "And that is fine, perfectly fine."

"I didn't say that," smiled Ginny, sliding her hand around his neck and pressing against him. "I said not in here."

"Oh," said Harry. "You want to … go find somewhere, um, now?" He looked down at her hopefully. Ginny nodded and pressed a kiss to his lips. He smiled against them and kissed her back thoroughly before grabbing his discarded cloak in one hand and hers in the other. Dousing the lamp and plunging the room into darkness, Harry shouldered his way out of the changing room and pulled Ginny back towards the castle. She giggled as she trotted along behind him.

"You're very keen," she observed, giggling harder. Harry turned and looked at her closely in the dim light cast by the moon and stars.

"If this is too fast …" he trailed off, overcome once more with doubt and confusion. Ginny shook her head.

"Stop second-guessing, Harry," she said. "Just act." Harry didn't answer her, only dragged her back to the castle faster.

They reached the great oak doors of the Entrance Hall, panting with exertion and flushed in spite of the chill air. Harry checked his watch, they still had a few minutes to go before curfew and he pressed a hand to the door to open it. He had only opened it an inch when a shout reached their ears. They both turned to see George, stumbling up the path, practically dragging someone with him.

Harry rushed down to help him, fearing the worst. When he got there he realised George was practically carrying Hermione up the path to the castle.

"Oh, thank goodness I caught you," puffed George. "Here." He thrust Hermione into Harry's arms. Harry stumbled under her sudden weight.

"Hermione?"

"Oh! Harry! Hello!" Hermione grinned up at him and looped her arms around his neck.

"She's a little …"

"Inebr-inee-neeb … I'm pissed, Harry!" Hermione flung one arm into the air and let out a loud shriek of laughter. Clearly she found it very amusing. Harry didn't. He found himself very off balance as he tried to stop her from tipping over.

"Can you take care of her? I have to get back to Ron," muttered George. "I left him in the Shrieking Shack throwing up onto his shoes."

"You came through the passageway?"

"Yeah," nodded George, "it's a good thing it wasn't blocked!"

"Okay… well be careful going back past the Whomping Willow," Harry called back dejectedly as George jogged off into the night. Harry shook his head. He sighed heavily, feeling deflated. It was _not_ good timing.

"Harry?" a weak voice came from somewhere below his chin. "Harry, I think I'm going to vomit." Harry managed to point Hermione away from him and toward a garden bed just in time. Ginny padded up behind them as he was rubbing Hermione's back softly with one hand and holding her hair back with the other as she leaned her forehead against the ground, groaning.

"Is that, Hermione?" Ginny asked incredulously. Harry nodded blithely.

"I think she and Ron may have gotten a little too much 'Happy Birthday,'" he grimaced as Hermione retched again into the rose bushes.

"Oh Harry," Hermione moaned, "I think we drank too much."

"No kidding," muttered Harry, draping one of her arms over his shoulders and turning back to the castle. "Try not to spew until we get you up to the bathroom."

"It's not spew." Hermione tried to stand up straight and failed. "It's S.P.E.W. and I don't like Myrtle's bathroom. There are _cats_ in there."

"We're not going to Myrtle's bathroom," muttered Harry.

"Where are we going?" Ginny asked worriedly as she pushed the door open for Harry to drag Hermione into the Entrance Hall.

"Prefect's bathroom," Harry said shortly, directing Hermione away from a suit of armour.

"Hey!" Hermione protested loudly, pointing aggressively back at the plinth as she wrestled against Harry's firm grip. "I was talking to him!"

"Shhhhhhh!" Harry clamped a hand over her mouth. "D'you want to get caught?"

"Noooooo," said Hermione solemnly, her blood-shot, glassy gaze becoming doe-eyed and innocent. "We do _not_ want to get caught. Harry, we almost never get caught … remember that time we got caught on the Astronomy Tower?" She giggled. Loudly.

"Shhhhhhhhhh!" Harry hissed desperately. Hermione threw her arms out and spun around.

"Don't deny it, Harry!" she trilled. "Hey everybody, guess what? I was up on the Astronomy Tower with _Harry Potter_!" Hermione started laughing uproariously. Harry slapped one hand over her mouth before grabbing her arms and steering her towards the bottom step. Ginny raised one eyebrow at them as she pulled Hermione up onto the first step of the Grand Staircase.

"It was in our first year," huffed Harry. "I was _eleven_ and we were delivering Norbert to Charlie's mates!" Ginny giggled and yanked Hermione's arm.

"Hey!" protested Hermione. "I can walk on my own." Harry shook his head and resumed pushing her up the stairs while Ginny dragged from in front. They got to the third landing before Hermione spoke again.

"This is the third floor, Harry!" she whispered, spinning around and clutching his shirt. "We're not allowed in the third floor corridor … Why is your shirt undone?" She tugged at his collar and peered underneath.

"Never you mind," said Harry, hastily clutching at his shirt.

"There's no Horntail!" Hermione gasped suddenly and turned to Ginny, an accusatory look on her face. "_You _said he had a Horntail tattoo!"

"She's definitely one for reliving the past on Firewhisky," Ginny said. She rolled her eyes expressively and tugged the other girl up the next few steps and onto the fourth floor landing.

"I don't like Horntails!" Hermione proclaimed suddenly. She turned to Harry, wide eyed. "A Horntail tried to _kill_ you! Are you okay? Do need to see … to see, um … Madam Poff … Madam Poof … Madam Pump … the matron?" Harry shook his head.

"No, I'm fine," he said. "A few more steps and we're at the bathroom."

"Are you coming in the bathroom with me?" Hermione suddenly lowered her eyelashes and giggled.

"No," he said shortly.

"Oh, come on, you've done it before," Hermione pouted, giggling. Harry rolled his eyes exasperatedly.

"Come on," he muttered, giving her a shove. Hermione turned to Ginny.

"It didn't mean anything," she slurred, suddenly seeming to run out of steam. "We _only_ made Polyjuice potion, in the bathroom with the snake tap, you have to believe me!" Ginny patted her arm.

"I know, I know," she soothed as they stumbled the last few steps to the Prefect's bathroom. "Here we are, let's get you cleaned up."

"I had a lovely birthday," Hermione sighed as Ginny opened the door.

"That's great, Hermione," mumbled Harry as he propelled her into the bathroom.

"I'm going to join the Ministry when I've finished Hogwarts," said Hermione, "and Harry's going to be an Auror, he's my best friend and so's Ron, he's my boyfriend … wow, I have a boyfriend. I never had one before."

"What about Viktor Krum?" Ginny asked mischievously as she pushed Hermione onto one of the seats.

"Pfffft," snorted Hermione with a languid wave of her hand. "He wasn't my _boyfriend_. I never did with _him_ the things I do with Ron!"

"Yes, well enough of that," said Ginny briskly. "I already know far more about George's sexual prowess than I ever needed to, I do _not_ need to hear about Ron's!"

"How's Harry's?" Hermione suddenly asked, lurching out of her seat.

"Merlin, Hermione," Harry exclaimed. "Drink loosens your tongue doesn't it?"

"Have you done it yet?" Hermione asked him, swaying to one side. Harry shook his head resignedly.

"And I wouldn't even be telling you that much if I thought you'd remember this in the morning," he muttered.

"Oh, I'm going to be sick," said Hermione and she promptly threw up all over Harry's shoes.

"Lovely," Harry said sarcastically, screwing up his face.

"Just take them off," Ginny sighed, unfastening the clasp on Hermione's cloak. "I'll send them to the House Elves with her clothes."

"She won't like that," Harry removed his shoes with a grimace.

"Well, next time she might be considerate enough _not_ to get drunk while I'm busy finding out about your sexual prowess." Harry blushed and left the room hurriedly as Ginny started to remove Hermione's shirt.

It was late by the time Ginny got Hermione cleaned up and sober enough to walk up the dormitory stairs. Harry sank into his four-poster and gave himself up to some very pleasant, but ultimately frustrating dreams.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34. Monster**

Bowing to the insistence of Ginny, a group of second years and Ron, Harry put up the Quidditch tryout notice the day after the victory at the Wizengamot. A crowd of students were gathered around it before breakfast had even started.

"Why aren't they all still asleep?" grumbled Seamus blearily from an armchair near the fireplace in the common room. "Don't they know it's Sunday?"

"Well, what are you doing up then, you great lump?" asked Dean as he lowered himself onto one of the couches.

"Same thing you are, ain't I?" Seamus retorted. "Pursuit of women."

"Oh really?" Neville asked, wandering up to the small group by the fire.

"Takin' Luna to breakfast then Neville?" Seamus asked. "Might just come along, won't be in the way or nothing." Seamus jumped up and trailed after Neville.

"He's still chasing that Audrey bird," Dean sighed.

"Pursuit of women?" inquired Harry with a raised eyebrow. Dean just shrugged and unfolded himself from the couch before heading out the portrait hole. Harry stared into the fire.

He jumped when warm hands encircled him from behind and soft lips pressed a kiss to his neck.

"Good morning," Ginny whispered. Harry turned his head and smiled.

"Morning."

"Hermione will be down shortly," Ginny said cheerfully, standing up straight. "She just needs a moment to get her bearings." Harry eyed her suspiciously.

"Did you give her some hangover potion?"

"Well, Harry," said Ginny slowly, thoughtfully, "that's the curious thing. I cannot seem to find any." At that moment Harry heard a shuffling on the stairs and a very pale Hermione Granger entered the common room moments later.

"Good morning, Hermione!" sang Ginny cheerfully. Hermione winced. "Ready for breakfast? I hope they have lots of bacon and eggs with toast and lashings of butter!" Hermione turned a delicate shade of green and lowered herself gingerly into a chair.

"You all right, Hermione?" Harry asked. "Not going to throw up on me again are you?"

"Again?" asked Hermione and groaned. "I threw up on you already?"

"Well only once actually _on_ me," clarified Harry. "But um … twice, yeah."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Hermione closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair. "Why is the world still spinning?"

"So, you and Ron got up to some mischief last night then?" asked Ginny, leaning on the back of the couch. Harry suddenly had a very good view down her top. His eyes flicked up to her face and by her smirk, he knew she was doing it on purpose.

"We were just celebrating my birthday," Hermione muttered. "I think, perhaps too many people wanted to buy us drinks."

"Ah, the price of fame." Harry nodded sagely and Ginny burst into giggles. Hermione held her head and moaned.

****************

Hermione needed no encouragement to help Ginny with her studies. In Harry's experience this had always meant filling every available minute with a book in your hand. Ginny was no exception. It left few chances for him to be alone with her. They had been caught kissing once by Professor Flitwick in an empty classroom and by Hagrid down by the lake but for the most part they never had more than a few stolen moments before Hermione would whisk Ginny off somewhere to study. For some reason they just never seemed to have enough _time_. Harry was starting to feel like he would _never_ have enough time with her because every time he tried to say more than a few words it would be time for a class or someone needed to see him or Ginny went to catch up on her studies. The one time they had ventured up to the Astronomy Tower, giggling under the Invisibility Cloak, they had seen rather more of Draco Malfoy and his girlfriend than they ever cared to.

The next Saturday dawned a bit overcast and gloomy for the Quidditch tryouts and Ron arrived in the Gryffindor common room fireplace before breakfast. He startled Harry who was hurriedly scratching out part of a Transfiguration essay, hoping to get it finished before they began the trials which looked likely to last most of the morning. Harry was hoping that with Hermione occupied by Ron he would be able to have Ginny to himself for more than three minutes that afternoon.

"Morning, Harry!" greeted Ron. "You're looking very studious."

"Comes with being a student," Harry grimaced.

"Hermione said its Quidditch trials this morning," Ron said.

"Listen mate," began Harry hesitantly, "I know you came to spend time with Hermione, but d'you think you could … we need a Keeper …" He trailed off. Ron beamed at him.

"I'm there!" exclaimed Ron exuberantly. "I'll find you the best Keeper you can get out of all the little scrawny midgets!"

With Hermione sufficiently distracted by Ron, Harry managed to steal Ginny away before they went down to breakfast. She all but pinned him to the wall in a little alcove just off the sixth floor corridor and Harry wondered idly if they had enough room or time for something a little more adventurous. Ginny certainly seemed willing, he mused, as she ran her hands up under his shirt with very little preamble. This was probably even a less desirable place than the Quidditch changing room, however, and he pulled away from her insistent hands.

"Let's skip breakfast," Ginny said breathlessly. Harry laughed.

"I don't think so, we have to get ready for Quidditch tryouts," he murmured. Ginny shrugged delicately.

"I think it would really … help." She looked up at him and smiled. Harry debated in his mind. For the first time in a week they were alone, together; Hermione was not going to suddenly turn up and they had nowhere to be until ten o'clock.

"Well …" Harry's voice cracked a little and Ginny grinned victoriously.

"There should be plenty of empty rooms around here … in a castle this big," she said, winding her arms around his waist.

Later, Harry wondered if he would have given in to her but at that moment a very loud croak sounded near their feet and Ginny jumped. Harry felt, but did not see something land on his foot and heard the sound of shuffling footsteps, thumping doors and raised voices getting closer.

"Is that … I think its Trevor," Ginny whispered as she pulled out her wand. "_Lumos_." Two gleaming eyes blinked up at them and the toad croaked again. The thumping and shouting got louder. Harry could hear people calling.

"Trevor!"

"Bart!"

"I'm telling you, get a bigger cage!" Othello sounded distinctly irritated. Harry peered out into the corridor and saw Neville and Luna with Dexter and his friends. He pulled back into the alcove and pressed himself and Ginny against the back wall.

"Maybe they won't see us," he whispered as he nudged at Trevor with his foot.

"I'm sick of looking for your stupid toad. I told you to get an owl," Hamish grumbled as the group got closer. Trevor hopped back into the alcove with Harry and Ginny and climbed onto Harry's foot.

"Get off you slimy little amphibian," Harry hissed. Ginny shivered and pressed herself closer to Harry.

"That toad keeps giving me the creeps," she said in a hushed whisper. "Look, he's _staring_. _Nox_." She cancelled the spell and they were plunged into the shadows.

"I do not think you should try to separate Trevor and Bart," Luna's voice floated through the corridor. "It is clear they wish to be together."

"Luna! Trevor's not like that!"

"He is a toad, not a monk, Neville. He has needs."

"But … Bart's a …"

"I do not think Bart is a boy."

"The man in the shop said he was!" Dexter protested loudly.

"Men do not know everything," said Luna as she sailed into the alcove where Harry and Ginny were still clutching each other, Trevor blinking innocently on Harry's foot. "Hello Harry, hello Ginny. I am sorry; Bart appears to have interrupted your attempts to join together." Harry could feel Ginny heat up as she blushed and his jaw dropped.

"Luna! There are first years here!" Neville looked utterly mortified and refused to look at Harry and Ginny.

"Harry, you may wish to re-button Ginevra's shirt," Luna commented serenely as she bent swiftly to pick up the toad. Harry flushed as Ginny spun quickly to face the wall and button her shirt, her face flaming. Luna held the fat toad in her hands out to Dexter.

"That's not Bart," sighed Dexter. "That's Trevor; we still don't know where Bart is."

"We'll keep looking," Neville reassured him.

"Will you help us find Bart, Mr – H-Harry?" Gilbert asked timidly.

"Sure," Harry answered swiftly, desperate to divert attention from the fact that he and Ginny had been in the alcove at all. "We're, um, checking out this corridor are we?" Dexter nodded enthusiastically.

Harry and Ginny joined the others searching for the toad, looking behind tapestries, under suits of armour and inside decorative urns. Neville, clutching Trevor, pulled Harry aside.

"Listen, really sorry about that," he said. "I didn't expect to find anyone there, not since Partington from Ravenclaw set up that system on the third floor." Harry stared at him.

"Um … what?" he asked.

"You know," Neville waved his hands carelessly, "There's a bunch of rooms there, empty, so Partington – brilliant at Transfiguration, that kid – sets up a room for you … if you … you know … want some time."

"Hermione found it last night," Ginny interrupted, pulling her head out of an urn. "She made him dismantle it and Partington's got detention for about a month." Neville cursed.

"The first years, Neville," Luna said mildly as Trevor took advantage of the moment and leapt out of Neville's grasp. The toad bounded away swiftly and Dexter tore after him.

"Maybe he knows where Bart is!" Gilbert called as he ran after Dexter. Harry and the others ran after the younger boys until they all crashed into one another in the doorway of a small room at the end of the corridor.

"Oh, gross!" exclaimed Dexter as he backed slowly out of the room. Hamish and Othello wore similar looks of disgust. Harry peered into the room before making a face of his own.

"I told you Bart was a girl," Luna said dreamily.

Harry sighed heavily. It was an absolute travesty that the toads at Hogwarts were getting more action than he was.

The Gryffindor Quidditch trials were as much of a farce as they had been in his sixth year. After Hermione ordered everyone from other Houses off the pitch, Harry began the tedious process of choosing two Chasers and a Keeper. Although he had to hold trials for all the positions, Harry had absolutely no intention of replacing either of the Beaters or Ginny as Chaser. Luckily Peaks and Cootes outflew and outplayed every other Beater applicant. The Chaser trial was more involved. The first three Keeper applicants were more hopeless than Ron had been even on his worst day and made every Chaser hopeful look brilliant.

"Listen, Ginny, how are we going to do this?" Harry flew over to her as she hovered a few feet from the hoops, tossing a Quaffle from one hand to the other. She looked at him for a moment.

"Get Ron out here," she said. "Put him in front of the hoops. If they can get past him, they'll do."

"Ah, but can you?" Harry grinned. Ginny tucked the Quaffle under her arm and flew right up to Harry, leaning close.

"Oh, I'm going to make the team," she said silkily, "captain." Harry grinned and watched as she flew over to Ron.

It didn't take Ron long to grab Peakes's broom and soar out onto the pitch. With Ron in front of the hoops it was made immediately obvious who the better Chasers would be. Ginny outflew them all and Harry just sat and watched her fly. She was going to be a professional Quidditch player, he was sure of it; she flew like she was born on a broom.

Once Harry had selected Lucy Grant, a third year and Brent Robinson from fourth year to be the two other Chasers, Ron attempted to give the Keeper hopefuls tips that would enable them to save goals – but Harry was losing hope. The next three were no better than the first three and there was only one Keeper applicant left.

Kyle Thorpe was perhaps the biggest second year Harry had ever seen. Ron gestured with his arms and pointed to the hoops while talking animatedly to Kyle. The boy nodded and Harry could almost see him grit his teeth with determination as he flew to the hoops. Harry motioned to Lucy to throw Quaffles at the second year – not wanting to waste his time. If Kyle couldn't block the weakest of their Chasers he wouldn't put the poor kid through anymore humiliation. Harry rubbed his temples wearily. It was nearly lunch time and he was feeling the strain of building half a Quidditch team.

"You need to train a Seeker," Ginny's voice came from nearby. She'd flown over to watch the Keeper trial. Harry studied her face carefully, unsure exactly what she meant. She smiled. "You don't want them to have this sort of trouble next year."

"I hadn't thought of that," Harry frowned.

"I don't mean you shouldn't play," Ginny clarified. "Just think how much easier it would have been if any of these clods had a clue how to Keep."

There was a gasp from the crowd. Harry turned back to the hoops to see Kyle clinging precariously to his broomstick. Ron was hovering a short way off, muttering under his breath. It looked as if he was willing the young Keeper hopeful to do a good enough job to get on the team. Kyle straightened on his broomstick and nodded tersely to Lucy who was holding the Quaffle tentatively. She hurled the Quaffle to the left of where he was. Harry groaned inwardly; he couldn't imagine the hefty young man able to get over and block it quickly enough.

Kyle surprised them all, flying deftly across and blocking the shot solidly. He continued, not letting a single one of Lucy's shots through and Harry nodded to Brent and signalled to him to join Lucy. The two new Chasers flew together tossing the Quaffle back and forth and attempting to get a shot past the younger boy.

"She's mad for him," Ginny murmured.

"She is?" Harry asked. "For who?" Ginny rolled her eyes at him.

"It's perfectly obvious that Lucy wants to be with Brent," she insisted.

"If you say so," muttered Harry. "Hey, home come Dean didn't try out?"

"You're asking me?" Ginny shrugged. "He's your roommate." Harry watched the two Chasers.

"Are you _sure_?" he asked sceptically. "She doesn't _look_ like she likes him."

"Oh yeah? And how would you know what a thirteen year old girl looks like when she likes someone?" Ginny laughed.

"I remember," Harry said quietly, looking at her solemnly.

"Oh."

"So, do you think Kyle will do?" Harry turned away uncomfortably.

"Probably," Ginny shrugged. "Do we have any other options?"

"You go," Harry said suddenly, turning back to her. Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. Harry nodded towards the action in front of the hoops. "You go and see if you can get past him."

"You just want to watch me fly," Ginny smirked before she took off, intercepting a pass and hurling the Quaffle towards the hoops. Kyle was practically hanging upside down but he saved the goal with outspread fingertips, knocking the Quaffle to the side. Ron flew over to Harry.

"He's _brilliant_!" Ron called. Harry nodded absently. Ron made a noise of disgust. "You're too busy ogling my sister aren't you?" Harry blushed but did not deny it.

Ginny's hair streamed behind her and she leaned low on her broomstick as she swooped past the hoops. Her cheeks were flushed and her body lithe and supple as she twisted around the posts, trying to trick Kyle and get a shot in from below. Harry felt an ache for her in his chest. He wanted to touch her, to hold her, to memorise her. What he wouldn't give for a few hours, uninterrupted and alone with Ginny Weasley.

"I should punch you for that look," said Ron conversationally. Harry started guiltily. Ron laughed. "But I want to avoid a Bat Bogey, so I won't." Harry scowled at him.

"You think he'll be any good as a Keeper?" he asked Ron pointedly, changing the subject. Ron nodded.

"He's your best hope."

"George clean you up okay last week?" Harry asked, watching Ginny feint and get the Quaffle past Kyle.

"Yeah," replied Ron quietly. "I don't know what got into us."

"Firewhisky, by the look of Hermione," Harry snorted.

"Was she … did she …"

"Threw up twice, once in the rose gardens and once on my shoes," said Harry cheerfully. "Chatted up a suit of armour, felt me up and asked how I was in bed." He fell about laughing at Ron's incredulous look.

"She … she what?" he asked weakly.

"She said she was really lucky because she was with you," Harry said soberly. "Repeatedly."

"Hermione said that?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "She was apparently very complimentary, but Ginny won't tell me about what exactly because she believes it has scarred her for life and she cannot bear to relive it." Ron went beet red.

"Reckon you've picked a decent enough team," Ron said gruffly, "might be time for lunch." Harry grinned and flew down onto the pitch and signalled the rest of the team to join him.

He congratulated the new team members and set up their first practice for the next Thursday before heading to the changing rooms. It had been a long morning. He stretched out on one of the benches in the locker room and gazed idly at the practice Snitch still zooming around the room. Harry decided to wait for Ginny to come out of the girls changing area and started to remove his protective Quidditch gear rather lazily.

He had not gotten very far when he caught Ginny's distinctive scent. He left his right arm guard hanging from his forearm and twisted so that he could see her. She smiled at him.

"Exhausted, are we?"

"I need something to sustain me," Harry pouted. "I may not be able to make it off this bench without it."

"Well now, I shall have to see what I can do about that," Ginny said softly. She walked slowly up to him and Harry just watched, waited until she was close enough to touch and then he reached out a hand and pulled her down to him. She giggled as she sprawled on top of him on the narrow bench.

"Keen," she noted. Harry said nothing, choosing instead to kiss her.

The changing rooms were deserted. Coote and Peakes had left ages ago and the new team members had not come back there at all, instead going back to their dormitories to change and it was now lunch time in the castle. For the first time in a long time Harry was alone with Ginny, and likely would be for some time. He buried his hands in her hair and pulled her close.

"Funny," Ginny murmured as Harry ran his hands down her back and kissed his way down her neck, "I thought we weren't going to do it here …" Harry froze.

"Um …"

"But," Ginny looked him in the eye, "here we are … alone … all afternoon …"

"And you … you …" Harry stumbled over his words and then pulled her closer and gave in.

She smelled heavenly and she felt divine. Dimly, as he kissed her, Harry felt Ginny finish removing his remaining Quidditch protection and stroke his arms softly. He slid his own hands up her arms and lost himself in her touch, her kiss. Her fingers tangled in his hair and his hands trailed down her back. He felt small hands slide under his shirt and he stopped for a moment, sitting up and removing his shirt so that he could feel her on his skin.

"You should get a tattoo," Ginny said in his ear, her hands splayed across his chest. "A Horntail."

"Okay," Harry replied. If she wanted it he would do it, it was that simple. He couldn't resist her, so when she pressed herself against him he slid his own hands under her shirt, searching for the soft curves he knew were there.

He no longer cared that they were in the Quidditch changing rooms. He had wanted her all week and now he had her and she didn't want him to let her go. It was better than chocolate, better than Firewhisky. He idly wondered why Ron and Hermione got drunk for her birthday when they could have had something so much better instead. Then he shuddered at that image and burying his hands in Ginny's hair he pulled her to him with a growl before sinking to the ground taking her with him. He could feel Ginny's leg hooked over his own, her hands on his chest, his shoulders, his belt …

"Oi!" Harry froze. It was not a good sign that he could hear Ron; not at all. He dropped his forehead to Ginny's shoulder, breathing heavily.

"Ron," Ginny said dully, not moving her head, "how lovely to see you."

"Yeah, well, wish I could say the same," Ron said idly. "Reckon I've seen more of you than I care to though." He sounded amused. Harry looked up to see Ron leaning on the door frame; his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

Ginny sighed and pushed Harry off her before straightening her shirt and standing up. She kissed Harry softly before throwing her brother a filthy look.

"You're a git," she said with venom. "You know that?"

"Hey, don't blame me," Ron laughed. "You were the ones going at it in a public place." Harry sat staring at the wall. How could he look Ron in the eye after that?

"We were perfectly alone," Ginny hissed, "for the first time in _ages_. Well … I guess you ruined _that_." Harry heard her footsteps stomp away. He turned to see her paused at the doorway.

"Ginny-"

"I'll see you later, Harry," she sighed. "I've got some work to do anyway."

"Ginny-"

"Just … tonight's mine, yeah?" she asked. "I'll see you at dinner." She left. Harry glared at Ron.

"Thanks, mate," he snapped, "thanks a lot." Ron shrugged.

"I didn't know you two were …" Ron trailed off, waving his arms hopelessly.

"What? Didn't know we were what?" Harry demanded snatching up his shirt and pulling it on furiously. Ron blushed heavily.

"Erm … that um, far , er well that you had …"

"We haven't," Harry ground out. "We're not."

"Looked like it to me," Ron smirked at him. Harry shook his head.

"You're supposed to tear me limb from limb," he muttered. "I feel like you're setting me up." Harry stowed his Quidditch gear in his locker, straightened up the broom cupboard in the corner and picked up the Quaffle. He turned around to find Ron sitting on the bench, watching him.

"I'm not going to do anything," Ron said. "She loves you and you love her. Only an idiot would get in the way of that. I just didn't want to watch it."

"You could have turned around and walked away," Harry shouted.

"No way!" Ron exclaimed. "And leave myself with that image in my head? Letting it play out in there until we got to … the climax of the event?" Harry threw the Quaffle at Ron's head.

"You … just …" Harry struggled to find the words. "_You_ should not mention me and Ginny and climax in the same sentence, ever."

"Believe me, I don't want to," Ron held up his arms in mock surrender. "It's why I couldn't let things reach their … peak." Harry groaned and shook his head.

"Well … thanks a lot," Harry grumbled as he sank down onto the bench next to Ron. "What were you doing, skulking around the changing rooms anyway?"

"I was coming to see if you wanted to go see Hagrid with Hermione and me," Ron said. "Go have afternoon tea … like old times."

"Yeah, all right," Harry sighed. "I think you ruined the moment well enough, I may as well."

"Do me a favour, Harry," Ron said as they let the door swing shut behind them, "never let me see you two like that again."

"Traumatised are you?"

"For life," Ron shuddered.

"You should thank your lucky stars you didn't run into Malfoy," Harry responded.

"Had that pleasure, have you?" Ron smirked.

"The Astronomy Tower needs a tie on the door handle," Harry grumbled as Ron burst out laughing.

"Maybe you should get one for the Quidditch changing rooms."

"Thought had crossed my mind," Harry grinned at Ron. "Race you to Hagrid's?" He took off before Ron could answer.

"How old are you, Potter," Ron called, "eighteen or eight?" Harry just laughed and kept running.

He found Hermione waiting outside Hagrid's hut. She was staring absently at the pumpkin patch.

"Hermione!" called Harry as he approached. She didn't respond. Harry slowed down and walked up to her, he could hear Ron thumping after him and he reached out and touched Hermione on the arm and she jumped.

"Hello, Harry," Hermione said vaguely. Her eyes flicked to Ron. "I think something's up with Hagrid." Ron's brow furrowed and Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

"Like what?" Ron asked, leaning against one of the huge pumpkins and slapping it. "Hallowe'en pumpkins look good this year."

"He won't let me in," Hermione stared at the door of the hut, her brows drawn together. "He's hiding something."

"When is he not?" Harry asked, leaning against the same huge pumpkin as Ron.

"Little dragon or big spider?" Ron asked contemplatively.

"No, he's done that before," mused Hermione. With a start Harry realised she was serious. "What dangerous creature _hasn't_ he been involved with lately?"

"Don't be daft, Hermione," Ron said, laughing. "Maybe … he's got a lady friend and that's why he won't let us in."

"Have you met Hagrid, Ron?" Hermione asked pointedly.

"He could still have a woman," Ron protested. He jerked a thumb at Harry. "If this scrawny git can get himself a bird, Hagrid can."

"Hey!"

"Did you just use the term 'bird', Ron?"

"We-ell …"

"And for your information, Ron Weasley," Hermione glared at him, "Harry happens to be wizarding Britain's most eligible bachelor. He's hardly a scrawny git."

"You fancy him too, don't you?" Ron asked her morosely.

"No!"

"Ron-"

"I wouldn't blame you if you did-"

"Merlin's balls!" exclaimed Harry exasperatedly. "You're a right git, you know that?"

"What has gotten into you?" Hermione asked, glaring at Ron.

"He said you felt him up," Ron hissed. Hermione raised an eyebrow at Harry who groaned.

"You are not telling me you have been worrying about that," he said, turning to Ron. "She was drunk!"

"Thanks, Harry, tell the world," Hermione said dryly.

"Well, you said it!" Ron protested, stabbing a finger at Harry. "You said she asked how you were in bed!"

"I-I … what?" Hermione looked horrified.

"Relax," Harry held his hands up in surrender before they both lynched him. "She wanted to know why my shirt was undone-"

"Why was it?" Ron interrupted.

"Do you remember not five minutes ago?" Harry glared at him. "It was like _that_. So anyway she wasn't really feeling me up, she was looking for my tattoo, because she was drunk."

"You haven't got a tattoo," Ron commented sullenly.

"I know!" Harry exclaimed. He looked around at his best friends. Ron was staring intently into the Forbidden Forest and Hermione was studying the ground.

"Okay, right … good," Harry muttered. "Let's go see Hagrid."

"Wait a minute," Hermione spoke softly, as if it took her great effort. "In what context would I even ask how you were … in bed?" Harry burst out laughing.

"You were asking _Ginny_!" he snorted.

"Why did you not tell me any of this?" Hermione demanded. Harry shrugged. Ron glowered at Harry sullenly.

"Honestly Ron, she was just tipsy," Harry clapped a hand on Ron's shoulder. "You rated higher than Krum." Ron brightened visibly.

"Yeah?"

"Oh honestly," Hermione grumbled, stomping to Hagrid's door. She raised a fist to bang on it, calling out to Hagrid as she did so.

The effect was instantaneous. Hagrid's big, shaggy head appeared and he was wearing a scowl.

"What d'ye think ye're doin'?" he demanded gruffly.

"We came to tea," Hermione said primly.

"Well, not today," Hagrid said and attempted to close the door.

"What are you hiding?" Hermione demanded, casting a spell Harry had never seen before. Hagrid was unable to close the door.

"Nothing, nothing," said Hagrid. He was starting to sound desperate. "Hermione, you've got to let me close the door!"

"Why? What have you got in there?" queried Ron. "Is it something that'll bite our heads off?"

Hagrid turned white.

"No, not at all," he protested. "It's nuthin'. Nuthin' at all." The huge man attempted to look casual as he leaned uneasily against the door jamb.

"Well, it can't be worse than a baby dragon," muttered Hermione. "Hagrid, this is _us_. We won't tell. You know we won't."

"Ye've a knack fer getting' inter trouble, ye three," Hagrid muttered mutinously. "I'll not be responsible, no I won't."

"So you do have something in there, then?" Harry took a step towards the hut. Hagrid jumped and gripped the door, glancing nervously back inside.

"No, no, nuthin in here… Why don't you jus' run along now?"

"Hagrid… have you been collecting things from blokes down the pub?" asked Ron.

"I didn't collect anythin' wrong!" Hagrid exclaimed. Harry, Ron and Hermione shared a look.

"Hagrid, have you got a creature in there?" Hermione asked patiently. Hagrid shook his head hesitantly. Hermione crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's nuthin' fer you lot ter be worryin' about," Hagrid said with an attempt at finality. Harry attempted to peer inside. He caught a glimpse of a rather large cage with something hairy inside it before Hagrid stepped in front of it.

"I have a very bad feeling about this," muttered Ron warily. "This sort of thing usually ends in tears."

"There's nothing regulated or illegal goin' on Ron," Hagrid insisted.

"Good, you can let us in then." Hermione darted under Hagrid's arm into the hut.

"No! Hermione!" Hagrid shouted. Harry heard Hermione squawk before going silent and Ron charged past both of them before Harry had even breathed. Harry followed Ron as fast as he could and the three of them stood in Hagrid's doorway staring at a cage in the middle of the hut.

"What is that thing?" Hermione breathed.

"No way," Ron muttered, staring in awe.

The thing inside the cage had five fat legs and looked like a short, hairy starfish. It had a vicious looking mouth full of sharp teeth but was only about the size of Hagrid's palm.

"Hagrid," Harry said slowly, staring at the thing inside the cage. "Where'd you get a _Quintaped_?" Hermione turned to look at him in surprise.

"You know what that is?" she asked him. "How?"

"I can read, Hermione. I did the essay from _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_, same as you," Harry said haughtily. Ron sniggered. The Quintaped suddenly lunged forward; the bars on the crudely constructed wooden cage rattled and threatened to give way.

"You 'ave to get out of 'ere," Hagrid said desperately. "He can smell yer."

"You can't keep that here!" Ron said. "You have got to get rid of it!"

"But he's just a baby!"

"How can you possibly know?" Hermione asked, edging away from the cage.

"Watched him hatch, I did," said Hagrid proudly.

"But where did you get a Quintaped?" asked Harry. "I mean, no one can get to them!"

"Well I didn't know it were a Qunitaped when I bought th' egg," Hagrid said reasonably. "But 'e said it were such a great bargain and 'e were right too. You don't just get a Quintaped for four Galleons and five sickles!"

"You don't just _get_ a Quintaped!" Ron cried as the creature made another run at the bars of the cage. He pulled Hermione behind him and faced the hairy beast nervously.

"You can't keep it at school, Hagrid," Harry said. Hagrid looked so downcast that Hermione seemed to take pity on him. She withdrew her wand and making a few complicated wand movements and muttering under her breath, transformed the rickety, wooden box into a steel cage.

"Thanks, Hermione," Hagrid beamed and pulled her into a hug.

"No problem, Hagrid," Hermione replied when she got her breath back. "But if I see one _hint_ of that thing anywhere other than in this hut … and only until he's grown. Then you have to take him back!" Hermione shuddered.

"Stay fer tea," Hagrid said, throwing the door wide open.

"Erm … no thanks, I think we need to be getting back now …" said Ron, eyeing the Quintaped warily.

"Suit yerself," Hagrid called cheerily as the three of them backed out of the door. "We'll have tea next time. Monty'll like that!" Harry waved at Hagrid and beat a hasty retreat with Ron and Hermione. They got to the door of the castle before Ron spoke.

"Monty?" he said incredulously. "He called that monster _Monty_?"

"Monty the Monster," mused Hermione, pushing open the great oak doors. "It's got a certain charm …"

"How does _anyone_ get a Quintaped?" asked Harry. "Isn't that island unplottable?"

"Question of the century, isn't it?" Ron said. "But this _is_ Hagrid." Harry just grunted and the three of them made their way upstairs and into the common room where a rather large shouting match was in progress. Kyle Thorpe was in the middle of the room nose to nose with a massive fourth year who strongly resembled Cormac McClaggen.

"- _she_ obviously gets special treatment!" the fourth year was yelling.

"No one got special treatment, Brogan McClaggen," Kyle shouted back. "You just can't save a goal to save your ruddy life!"

"Oh and you can?"

"Course he can! He made Keeper, didn't he?" Dexter piped up from his perch on the back of one of the common room chairs.

"I should have made Keeper!" Brogan snarled his fists clenched. He turned on Dexter who eyed him carefully before climbing down into the chair he was perched on. He stepped on Hamish in the process, who punched him in the leg.

"You played rubbish and you know it!" threw in one of the spectators.

"I did not!" Brogan swung around to the hapless student. "Potter is just a … a …"

"A what?" sneered Dennis Creevey.

"He's prejudiced!"

"Oh my, you really are a deluded little toerag, aren't you?" Seamus interjected at that point. He stood up and strode towards Brogan. The fact that the fourth year was bigger than Seamus did nothing to deter the older boy.

"Now look here," Brogan protested. "You can't go calling me that! I'm going to find a Prefect and have him do something about your uncouth behaviour."

"Oh look, he's a tattle-tale too," Seamus said casually.

"Five points from Gryffindor for being a tattle-tale," Neville said lazily from his seat in front of the fireplace where he was playing Monopoly with Dean. The common room let out a collective groan.

"You can't do that!" exclaimed Brogan, going red in the face.

"Actually," said Neville, unwinding himself slowly and standing up, "I think you'll find I can. You see, I, unlike you, am a Prefect."

"Probably in Potter's pocket too then," muttered Brogan. "Just like that little bint he calls his girlfriend."

Ron didn't even try to hold Harry back but Neville got there before him.

"Don't you _dare_," Neville said in a low, ominous voice. "Never, _ever_ insult Ginny Weasley."

"You're not in charge anymore, Longbottom," sneered Brogan. "You don't need to defend your piece of fluff any more."

Brogan found his neck pressed against the wrong end of Neville's wand.

"This has got nothing to do with who's in charge," said Neville quietly. "It's pretty much all about you being a bullying, arrogant, idiotic imitation of a mountain troll."

"I'm not scared of you," Brogan scoffed.

"You should be," Neville snarled. "Now apologise."

"Weasley's not even here," Brogan smirked.

"I think _Harry_ would like to hear it," Neville said menacingly. Harry remained frozen, halfway across the room where he'd stopped on his way to beat Brogan to a bloody pulp. The whole common room turned to look at him. Neville continued. "Now Kyle is on the Quidditch team and you are not. Are you ready to deal with that without mocking the man who would have _died_ to save your sorry arse, and completely slagging off his girl?"

"That's not got anything to do with Quidditch," Brogan said, attempting to show a modicum of bravado.

"You idiot," Dean called from his seat by the fire. "Harry is the youngest Quidditch player in a century and has played more games than _anyone_ else in this castle!"

"I'm not some Harry Potter groupie," declared Brogan. "Just 'cause _you_ all think he's so great. It can't be all that hard to kill a dark wizard."

"Merlin's balls," exclaimed Seamus. "Draco Malfoy is friendlier than you!"

"Maybe he's a closet Slytherin," piped up Dennis Creevey.

"Potter didn't even kill the bastard properly the first time and we had to go through it all again, years later," Brogan said, looking quite crazed. He sneered at Harry who just stood there, his mind a total blank.

"Oi!" yelled Ron suddenly. "Have you completely lost your grip on reality?" He strode towards Brogan McClaggen and grabbed his collar with one large hand, hauling him forward and dragging his neck ruthlessly along the end of Neville's wand.

"Weasley are you mad?" Brogan's brave façade was cracking.

"Oh, absolutely," Ron snarled. "You insulted my sister and just trashed my best mate. You bet I'm mad."

"So, Brogan, got anything else to say?" Neville asked.

"Yeah, you're all completely bonkers!"

"Oh, you misunderstood Neville here," said Seamus, flicking his wand almost casually. "We wondered if you had anything _meaningful_ to say." Brogan moved his mouth frantically but no sound came out.

"Nice non-verbal," Ron complimented, still holding Brogan hostage.

"Thanks," grinned Seamus.

"I think …" Neville squinted dramatically at Brogan. "I think he's trying to tell us we can't do this to him."

"Well, he might be right …" Hermione said thoughtfully. Brogan turned to her as far as he could in Ron's grip, gesturing frantically, gratefully.

"What? Hermione-"

"He might hurt himself," Hermione interrupted. She flicked her wand at Brogan. "_Petrificus Totalus_." Then she levitated him out of Ron's grasp and to the portrait hole. "You'll be much safer this way while we go and see Mr Filch. He's not had a lot of people to serve detention lately. I'm sure he'll be very happy to see you."

Harry heard a muffled thump and Hermione muttering insincere apologies as she clambered through the portrait hole after Brogan's floating body. Ron stared around the common room at the awed faces of the rest of Gryffindor House.

"Show's over," he said briskly reaching out to grab Harry by the arm and propel him to the fireplace. "Go back to your knitting." Harry sank into a chair. He still hadn't said anything and stared into the flames. The rest of the common room gradually returned to normal, a buzz of conversation muffling the strains of the wireless in the corner.

"That kid spent the last year in a cushy safe-house in France," Seamus said as he threw himself on the hearth rug. Neville sat down again and picked up the die on the Monopoly board.

"Hasn't got a clue," murmured Dean.

"Maybe he's got a point," muttered Harry.

"Yeah, on his _head_," Ron rolled his eyes.

"It isn't all that hard to kill a dark wizard," Harry said softly. "And it is my fault Voldemort came back and-"

"You are as thick as McClaggen," said Ron, throwing a cushion in Harry's direction.

"But-"

"I don't know about you, but last year was pretty hard to me," Ron sat up straight and glared at him. "Most of these kids know that, he's just one idiot."

"Most of these kids weren't even here last year," Seamus said, rummaging in his bag and pulling out a sheaf of parchment. "Everyone's lost a family member. Too many of 'em have lost parents. There're no kids in Slytherin who're missing parents. They know where they are even if they happen to be in Azkaban or in the ground."

"Seamus!" remonstrated Neville. Seamus ignored him and unfurled his parchment.

"There's a heap of Ravenclaws who're missing a parent, mostly their dads," he said softly, scanning the parchment.

"Lots of Ministry workers," commented Dean. "We might be able to find them if we can figure out where all those Ministry workers went into hiding. The Hufflepuffs ... lots of their homes got attacked. It's like he went after groups systematically or something. This one kid told me he got sent away to his aunt's house in the country and while he was gone his mum and dad nearly got crushed in their home. They're okay though. Parents turned up on the doorstep one day and they've stayed with the aunt ever since. She was glad because her husband never came home from work one day."

"Not always missing though," Seamus said thoughtfully, tapping the parchment. "There's a first year Ravenclaw here … his parents got a one way ticket to St Mungo's permanent care ward after Death Eaters turned up in the dead of night."

"What … where's he living now?" Neville's knuckles were white as he gripped the arms of the chair he was sitting in. Seamus scanned his parchment.

"Looks like his … aunt, dad's sister," he replied. "Only magical relative he has left."

The litany of death and destruction hung over Harry like a heavy blanket. He'd been shielded, he realised. Kingsley and Molly and Arthur must have been shielding him from the real aftermath. Harry thought he might vomit. He clenched his fists and stared resolutely into the flames in the fireplace. He could almost see people in the flames screaming and trying to claw their way out as Death Eaters burned their homes.

"Most of Gryffindor went into hiding, I reckon," Dean said. "Whole families left the country until June but some of 'em just don't know anymore. I found three first years and one second year who ended up in the Muggle foster system."

"How'd they end up with Muggles?" asked Ron, leaning forward.

"Mum and dad never came home," Dean shrugged. "One of the firsties is Muggleborn. Got her Hogwarts letter but next thing her house got blown up. She was at a sleepover party but ended up in the Muggle system and the Ministry must have given up looking for her."

"Too much red tape for the dimwit Death Eaters, I suppose." Hermione's voice came from behind Harry. She slid onto Ron's lap.

"So she missed last year entirely," Dean continued. "McGonagall put her in first year since she was Muggleborn and utterly overwhelmed. I don't know exactly what happened with the others, but they were all in a safe house together. I think they got attacked and their parents were … killed and the Muggle authorities got there first."

"Flitwick went and found them all this summer," Seamus said quietly. "They don't even know where they are going _next_ summer. They couldn't tell the foster parents about magic. He and some Ministry officials did some memory charms and removed them from the Muggle records but … there's nowhere for them to go in the wizarding world either."

"So they've lost their families and their homes?" asked Hermione softly. Dean nodded.

"It's pretty sorry state of affairs when you've got homeless kiddies and everyone's too busy running around trying to fix everything else to care," Dean said gruffly.

"Do they think no one cares?" Harry asked softly, his voice scratchy.

"I think mostly they're grateful to be here, you know?" Dean said. "I don't think they've even thought ahead to the holidays."

"Do they have any wizarding orphanages or … foster things?" Ron tilted his head to the side. "What's a foster anyway?"

"It's when they place children with approved families in the event they lose their own," Hermione said, picking at a thread on her robes.

"They must have a procedure for it," Dean said. He looked at Hermione. "Don't they?" Hermione shrugged and looked sideways at Harry briefly before averting her eyes.

"I don't know," muttered Harry venomously. "And you'd think I _would_, wouldn't you?"

"I think most kids who um, need a home … erm, end up with … um, family," said Neville hesitantly after a pause. "It's not official, it just sort of … happens."

"So what … they're just going to leave it up to some arbitrary wizard to decide on a whim?" asked Harry bitterly. "They're not stray kittens! You can't just shove 'em on someone's doorstep!"

He felt like he was watching himself from a far-off distance. He had no idea where his bitterness was coming from. Harry didn't hate Dumbledore for what he'd felt forced to do and no longer blamed the old man, if he ever had. He couldn't really remember, everything felt so confused; so fuzzy.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione said softly, her concerned face peering at him. Harry nodded, trying to focus on what Seamus had been saying.

"- cos Everard Fingleman reckons his old man sent him a tin with a lock of hair in," Seamus shook his head. "He thinks it came from Egypt, the tin had these markings on them and his mum says they are Egyptian. I dunno how anyone would have gotten there without using Apparition but that's what he reckons."

"You can get there on a plane," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"So he reckons this is a sign from his dad that he made it to Egypt then?" Dean asked. Seamus shrugged.

"We don't have any other clues about where to start looking," Ron said idly tracing patterns on Hermione's thigh.

"Well we've got to do something," Seamus said restlessly. "A couple of the younger Ravenclaws said the goblins were threatening to take back their homes because of non payment with their dads gone and mums still looking after little ones at home. A couple of them have already had to move house and there's not a lot of undamaged wizarding real estate around at the moment. One kid reckons they'll have to move into a Muggle squash or something." Seamus looked very distressed.

"I reckon you might mean 'flat', mate," said Dean, choking back laughter. "It's like having a bunch of houses sort of all joined together and … stacked up."

"Sounds squashed," Seamus argued. Dean only nodded.

"Well, where would these homeless kids go then?" Ron said with a shudder. "The ones the Muggles got hold of? First they lose their family and then, 'cause the Death Eater brigade has damaged so many wizarding houses, they just get shut up in some Muggle squash-box with festering parents?"

"A flat's not so bad, Ron," Hermione said. She was stroking his hair affectionately, "and it's foster parents."

"Well _I_ wouldn't like to live in some Muggle neighbourhood after all year at school," Ron grumbled. "Especially not in some squashy, box place."

"That all look the same," Dean added. Harry could only wholeheartedly agree.

"I mean, I'd rather live in a cave if it was in the wizarding world and had proper wizarding plumbing and things," Ron argued stubbornly. "I've seen ekeltric light switches and I wouldn't want to live in a house with them lurking on my walls." Dean tried unsuccessfully to smother his snort of laughter. Ron glared at him.

"Well, Ron," said Neville with a resigned air, "if you have a wizarding house just lying around empty, feel free to hand it over and the problem's solved." Harry stared at Neville.

"Yeah, I'm rolling in houses," Ron drawled. "I got my estate out west and a little cottage in the country and in the winter I go and spend time in my London townhouse." Neville laughed and began packing away the Monopoly set.

Harry sat up straight. _He_ had an empty wizarding house in London. It might be as dank as a cave now, but they'd seen what Kreacher could do when he put his mind to it. They could fix up Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. It had plenty of space for several children. All he needed to do was find someone to look after them. He had to talk to Ginny. He didn't want to just give away his house without talking to her, even though he knew she would agree. It just didn't feel right to make that decision without her. He stood up suddenly.

"You got an empty house lying about, mate?" asked Dean with a grin.

"Yeah I do," Harry said hurriedly. "Hey listen, Neville, where _is_ Ginny?" Neville suddenly flushed a deep crimson colour.

"Well, she was sort of helping me and … erm …" Neville stumbled over his words before forcing them out in a rush. "I accidentally sprayed her with Stinksap when we moved the _Mimbulous Mimbletonia_ and when I tried _Scourgify_ I kinda made it worse and turned all the Stinksap brown." Ron chuckled.

"Smelt worse, too," Dean added helpfully.

"She went to the Prefect's bathroom to wash it off properly," Neville said glowering at Dean.

"Oh," said Harry. "Well … I'll just go wait for her then." He started towards the entrance of the common room.

"No peeking!" Ron called out after him. Harry gave him a two-fingered salute as he clambered out of the portrait hole.

Harry ambled down to the Prefect's Bathroom on the fifth floor. He contemplated ducking into an empty classroom to avoid Peeves who was throwing water bombs on the sixth floor, but Peeves looked up after cackling and drenching a pair of snogging Ravenclaws and simply waved at Harry before gliding through the ceiling. Harry shook his head and continued down to the Prefect's Bathroom.

"Lemon Zest," Harry muttered. The door remained closed. Someone must have changed the password. He thumped on the door. "Ginny? It's me, Harry, are you decent?" His only answer was a squelching sound and he pushed experimentally on the door.

"Sorry, I had it sealed," Ginny called out as he cautiously stuck his head in. He looked around tentatively and slammed his eyes shut.

Ginny Weasley was standing on the edge of a very bubbly bath, a white towel barely covering her and water dripping from her hair as she wrung it out.

"I thought … I asked … I … bugger," Harry spluttered as he turned around. Ginny giggled. He could hear her splashing towards him, her bare feet making little slapping sounds on the watery tiles. He drew in a ragged breath as she stood close enough so that he could feel her warmth.

In fact, it was overall too warm in this bathroom and … very steamy. His glasses had fogged up and he took them off, attempting to clear them. He realised that without his glasses on he couldn't see and therefore he wouldn't be able to see what Ginny was, or rather, wasn't wearing. He chanced a glance at her. It was not a very sound plan. She was so close he could see every freckle on her face and the way the water dripped over her shoulders and rolled down into the top of her towel. He shoved his glasses hastily back on and then groaned.

Sweet Merlin, she was trying to kill him.

"Ginny …"

"Harry …"

Her breath on his neck was very intoxicating and the way she pressed against him was nothing short of amazing. She smelt heavenly and she was still a little bit pink from her warm bath. She pressed a soft kiss to the base of his throat and slid her arms around his neck.

"I asked … I thought you were decent," Harry breathed.

"Oh, I'm feeling very decent," Ginny giggled. She shifted slightly and it was then Harry realised that the only thing holding up her towel was him. He grabbed hold of her waist to pin the towel in place but then she reached up to kiss him and he pulled her closer.

It was the worst thing in the world, it was the best thing in the world and Harry gave in, running his hands over her, feeling her skin and letting his body take over. He vaguely wondered what Ron would say and decided he didn't care. Just as he got up the nerve to venture under the towel a muffled gasp from behind got his attention. Harry whirled around and Ginny squeaked and grabbed at the towel as it fell slightly.

"Ooooh Harry," Moaning Myrtle was sitting on the edge of the bath, her ghostly feet in the water. She had a sly grin on her face and was looking at him through her eyelashes. She lowered her voice and giggled. "Are you going do it? Here? You wouldn't be the first you know. I watched Sirius Black and Alex Parker do it right over there. They managed to break three of the taps." She pointed vaguely to the other side of the huge bathtub. Harry swallowed.

"Myrtle," was all he said. The ghost giggled and Harry heard Ginny gathering her clothes.

This was definitely not his day.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35. Mystery**

Life fell into a peaceful rhythm of classes, Quidditch practice and studying. Harry got far too many harsh looks from Hermione if he tried to interfere with Ginny's study schedule. Instead, he snatched brief moments with her before breakfast or after Quidditch practice. Although they often found themselves in the empty changing rooms after practices there was no further attempt to do anything but get changed and hasten back to the castle before they froze; winter was coming early and with a vengeance. Neville began to fret about the strength of the charms on Greenhouse Three despite learning them from Professor Sprout and casting them himself. He could often be found tending his plants between classes and after dinner. Professor Crockwell made great inroads into making Muggle Studies a meaningful subject, although her credibility slipped a little when she suggested Draco Malfoy play Twister with Seamus Finnegan.

"I'm not playing some ridiculous party game with that … buffoon!" he screeched. Seamus made a face behind Malfoy's back and Professor Crockwell attempted to look stern.

"Young man," she said, turning to Malfoy. "I am not accustomed to being … defied in this manner."

"You cannot, in all sincerity, suggest that Muggles play this game?"

"Indeed they do, Mr Malfoy," Professor Crockwell insisted. Malfoy looked distastefully at the mat. The look was mirrored on the faces of a number of other students, including Hermione.

"I am not sure playing _Twister_ is teaching us anything," she whispered out of the side of her mouth to Ginny.

"I dunno, Hermione," Dean whispered from behind her. "It's actually very enjoyable ... in the right circumstances." He nudged Ginny with the toe of his trainer and smirked at her. Ginny turned a very interesting shade of red and refused to look anywhere but at the floor.

"I am _not_ playing this ridiculous game," said Malfoy, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well, I am!" exclaimed Seamus. "Audrey?" He smiled suggestively at the girl but Harry rather thought he looked more disturbing than alluring. Audrey visibly shuddered and distanced herself as far as she could from Seamus.

"Right then, Mr Thomas," said Professor Crockwell briskly. "You'll do. Up you get."

"Him?" squawked Seamus as Dean grinned broadly and swaggered over to him. Professor Crockwell was too busy spinning the selector to notice when Dean swatted Seamus on the behind exaggeratedly.

"Stop that," Seamus hissed, batting Dean's hand away.

Later Harry and Neville had to listen as Seamus moaned about his lost chances with Audrey after she'd witnessed his face up close and personal with Dean's crotch. Harry was very glad when Professor Crockwell moved on from Muggle board games to literature. He could sleep through that and it didn't make him want to hex Dean for playing suggestive party games with Ginny. He tried not to laugh when he caught Malfoy with his nose in a book of Romantic poetry in the corridor.

Harry spent part of every weekend with Teddy and returned to Hogwarts after a few days or a few hours with stories he told Ginny as they lounged by the common room fire late at night and photos that he spellotaped above his bed. Defence classes were moments where Harry could really be himself. The seventh years perfected their defensive spells and staged mock duels. Draco Malfoy began to look at Harry with something less than loathing, while Professor Fiesche continued to glare at him haughtily from the Head table and in the corridors.

"What do you think his problem is anyway?" Ron asked after he had encountered the Professor for the first time as the two of them hurried through the Entrance Hall on the way back from the Quidditch Pitch late one Saturday afternoon. Harry shrugged.

"He never speaks to me he just sort of … stares like that," Harry replied, blowing on his fingertips before shoving his hands deep in his pockets in an attempt to thaw them. Ron turned to look at the retreating professor.

"Looks like a Death Eater," he grunted. Harry rolled his eyes at Ron behind his back.

"Come on," he said, "let's go shower before it's time to eat. I don't know why you wouldn't just shower in the change rooms."

"Not going to go in there after the last time, thanks," Ron muttered. "Who knows what you've been up to in there?"

"Nothing has _gone on_ in there!" exclaimed Harry indignantly. Ron just grunted and took the Grand Staircase two at a time.

They were about to step off the third floor landing and head to the fourth floor when the staircase suddenly swung around and they found themselves going down.

"This is the stupidest staircase in the whole world," muttered Ron as they jumped off at the second floor landing before the staircase forced them back down again.

"No argument from me," Harry agreed as he pushed open a nearby portrait. The occupant of which was a slightly balding wizard holding a very large tray of sandwiches. "Come on, why are we bothering with the staircase? Let's go through the secret passages."

"There's one here?" Ron asked as he clambered through.

"Yeah, Ginny and I found it last week," replied Harry absently as he lit his wand and started climbing the steep steps on the other side of the portrait.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, we didn't feel like talking to Filch and the portrait sort of ... summoned us, I guess, you could say," Harry said flicking his wand upwards and inspecting the torches on the wall. "It whistled and swung open. Hey, can you light these torches, mate?"

"You and Ginny … miraculously found a secret passage?" Ron sounded like he was trying not to laugh. Harry swung his lit wand tip in Ron's face. He was smirking.

"Honestly Ron," Harry huffed at him. "This staircase is so steep it's practically a ladder! It's not exactly the safest place for-"

"Oh, I dunno, that could makes things interesting," Ron chuckled. Harry shuddered.

"I am going to pretend you didn't just say that." The two of them kept climbing the staircase, lighting the torches as they went. The stairs went up and up in one long, straight line almost directly vertical. Harry was starting to feel just a little dizzy.

"Where does it go, mate?" Ron asked eventually, leaning on the wall.

"Well, the other day it went to the seventh floor," Harry said. "It wasn't this long, though. This is really odd." He peered ahead but the staircase vanished into darkness.

"It's structurally impossible as well," Ron grumbled. "Shouldn't it curve or have landings or something?" Harry lit his wand again and began shining it around. The walls were smooth stone and cobwebs hanging from the wall torches spoke of disuse. If he looked down too hastily he felt like he was going to fall. He noticed Ron had one hand tightly on the wall as if to hold himself up. There was no handrail and Harry suddenly felt distinctly unwell.

"This is really weird," he said, shuffling towards the wall. He put his hand out and was startled to see it disappear into the wall. Harry pulled it out again with a yelp.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron said incredulously. "Did your hand just … vanish?" Ron shuffled over and prodded the wall experimentally. It didn't give and his hand did not vanish. He shrugged.

"It did … but it isn't now," said Harry, frowning.

"You reckon it's like the platform?" asked Ron, running his hands over his side of the stairwell. "Why would it be there one minute and not the next?"

"I dunno, it's weird," murmured Harry. He reached out to press tentatively against the wall. A wave of nausea washed over Harry as his eyes flicked downward and he put out his other hand to steady himself, losing it up to his elbow in the stone. Ron made a wordless, strangled yelping sound.

"That looks so weird," he said, shaking his head. Harry wriggled his fingers experimentally before pressing his other hand to the wall, next to the first. He could still feel his hands; he just had no idea where they were. Harry pressed further into the wall. He was soon shoulder deep into the wall with both arms.

"Well I guess it's time to stick my face in," Harry said, glancing at Ron nervously, "and find out where it goes."

"We could just … you know, walk away," Ron said pensively, staring at where Harry's arms met the wall.

"We could …" Harry trailed off, staring at Ron. Suddenly Ron grinned.

"You honestly thought I was serious, didn't you?" Ron asked, shaking his head. "You're going soft now you've taken out old Moldyshorts!" Ron cackled gleefully and pushed at the back of Harry's head, tripping over his feet. Both of them fell, sprawling through the wall of the hidden staircase and landing in a cavernous room that was empty save for a couple of pieces of dusty, broken furniture and a few scattered paintings hanging crookedly on the walls.

Harry scrambled to his feet and dusted himself off hurriedly before slowly stepping into the room. He gazed about, noting the elaborate chandeliers which seemed to glow with a strange light, making the gilt-edged frames around the paintings shine. There was a low door at one end of the room and the chaise lounges lining the edge of one wall looked as though they had once been upholstered in very opulent red velvet. Now they looked a bit faded and threadbare.

"All a bit Gryffindor, isn't it, mate?" Ron said shuffling up behind him. His footsteps caused clouds of dust to rise from the faded red carpet under their feet.

"Where do you suppose we are?" Harry asked, inspecting a nearby sleeping portrait and rubbing ineffectively at the nameplate at the bottom.

"Godric's boudoir?" grinned Ron.

"Do you think of nothing else?" Harry asked in exasperation. He rolled his eyes at his friend. "It looks more like a dance hall." Harry wandered along the wall, squinting at the snoozing portraits and stopped in front of a particularly pretty landscape featuring a lake.

"Yeah, if you dance on carpet," said Ron, stomping his foot dramatically and making a cloud of dust rise up around them. Harry coughed and spluttered. Ron continued. "It's a bit odd, isn't it? That this room is here; it was never on the map."

"Neither was the Room of Requirement or the Chamber of Secrets," Harry shrugged as he crossed to a plinth that was leaning drunkenly against one wall, the marble bust that had probably once been atop it smashed below it on the floor. He straightened the plinth and waved his wand at the broken pieces of the bust. "iReparo/i."

"What do you reckon it is?" Ron asked as he used the sleeve of his robes to wipe the grime off the brass plate on the edge of the plinth.

"A room … a big empty, dusty room," replied Harry wryly. He stared around. "There're lots of places in this castle that are old and unused."

"Yeah, but it's not on the map," Ron said again as he gazed at the ceiling. It was high and arched, etched stone forming decorative mouldings around the chandelier hangings.

"Well it's a bit uninteresting, to tell you the truth," muttered Harry, striding towards the wall they had come through. "Come on, let's get up and showered. I'd like to spend some time with Ginny this weekend."

"Right," said Ron, easily overtaking Harry to get to the wall. "Don't want to get in the way of the lovebirds, Hallowe'en's not far away." Harry smacked him in the back of the head and Ron grinned at him.

"Stop that," Harry snapped. "It's disturbing when you push us together." Ron chuckled and reached out and put his hand on the wall and it met with solid resistance. Harry groaned.

"Fantastic," Ron said sourly.

"Well, I guess we try the little door then," Harry sighed. "Why can't my life be easy?"

"I'm never going to fit through there," said Ron, eyeing the doorway speculatively as they stood in front of it. He clapped Harry on the back soundly. "Good thing you're a skinny little runt!" Harry glowered at him as he grasped the handle. As soon as he touched it the door began to change shape, to grow until it was just the right height for Harry to go through. The space beyond was dark and Harry looked at Ron who had pulled out his wand.

"Think we should go through?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Ron nodded. "Dunno where we're going but … here, let me go first." Harry started to protest and then saw the look in Ron's eyes. He wasn't about to let anything hurt or harm Harry at that moment and Ron was going first. Harry stepped back out of the way and Ron sidled past, ducking through the doorway and lighting his wand as he stepped over the threshold. Harry followed closely behind.

Ron swung his wand in a wide arc, the light from the tip bouncing off a vast array of metallic objects that hung on the walls. There were suits of armour hanging drunkenly from wooden beams, a cluster of swords and fencing foils and a case lined with vicious looking daggers. There was no carpet in this room and no gilt edging. The stone walls were blackened with scorch marks and rough looking torches were hanging haphazardly from wall sconces. Harry cast _Incendio_ at the nearest torch and he and Ron shielded their eyes at the sudden light that infused the room.

"What do you reckon all this is?" Ron asked.

"Belonged to someone who liked blades," grimaced Harry imagining the room as a chamber in one of Dudley's particularly violent video games. "The carnage you could create with this stuff …"

"I don't think that was what it was for," Ron said thoughtfully, advancing into the room. He lit another of the torches and the remainder of the room was lit up, revealing it was bigger than Harry had first thought.

At the other side of the room from the doorway through which they had entered stood a duelling platform. It was slightly raised and looked as though it had once been slightly padded although the fabric on it was torn and rotting. What looked like horsehair spilled from the gashes in the fabric and a pair of protective gloves lay idly at one end.

"You reckon they practiced duelling in here?" Harry asked, picking up one of the gloves and turning it over in his hands.

"I think they may have taught it here," Ron murmured as he ran his fingers over a nearby case of oddly shaped helmets.

"Long time ago," Harry added, laying the glove back down. "So, how do we get out of this room?"

"Fireplace?" Ron shrugged, waving carelessly at a huge stone fireplace to their left.

"Got any Floo powder?" Harry was ready to be sarcastic when Ron pulled a bag out of his pocket.

"How did you think I would get home?" he asked. "You know McGonagall doesn't allow me to keep the Floo powder on the common room mantle piece, in case some first year gets it into his head to Floo home for lunch."

"I'd forgotten that," Harry said quietly. Harry had forgotten that Ron was leaving soon, that Ron didn't live here during the term any more, wouldn't snore all night, wouldn't be around in the morning. It was easy to forget, roaming the castle with Ron and uncovering new delights that things weren't as they had been … before.

"So where do you think we should Floo to?" Ron asked, sticking his head in the fireplace and peering up the chimney.

"Common room, I suppose," Harry shrugged. Ron lit a fire in the grate and took a handful of Floo powder.

"Gryffindor common room!" he called out as he threw the powder. Ron whirled away and it was then Harry realised he'd taken the Floo powder with him.

Cursing, Harry made his way back to the first room, dousing the torches as he went. Ron couldn't bring the Floo powder back to him through the fireplace considering they had no idea where they were. Harry would have to try and get back through that ridiculous wall. He slammed the door between the two rooms shut and watched as it shrank back down before stomping across the room, raising dust with his feet. He stopped halfway across the room, something glittering on the floor catching his eye. Harry bent down to scoop it up.

It was a piece of jewellery, probably part of a necklace. There was a broken golden chain and a pendant studded with tiny jewels slipped off the end of it as he picked it up, bouncing across the carpet. Harry scooped it up and turned the shiny bauble over in his fingers carefully. The pendant looked familiar, like he'd just seen it and he struggled to remember where from. It looked valuable, too valuable to be lying broken and forgotten on the floor of an old, empty room.

Harry looked up and scanned the room as if it could tell him where the pendant came from. Idly spinning it in his fingers Harry began to inspect most of the paintings, skipping over the landscapes and focussing on the portraits. Who were these people and why were their portraits hanging in this hidden room?

Hidden room … Harry turned the words over in his mind as his fingers worried at the pendant. He paused in front of a portrait of a rather corpulent lady in long flowing red robes. She was dressed much as the Grey Lady was, like most of the portraits Harry realised. He gazed at the portraits, all of whom were sleeping. The paintings were old, some had cracked paint and all of them were dressed in a very old-fashioned manner. He stopped suddenly at the one he had tried to clean the nameplate of before. There, lying against the breast of another fairly robust woman was the pendant he now held in his hands.

With increasing urgency he rubbed at the nameplate once again. He laughed at himself after several futile minutes and got out his wand, aiming at the frame and muttering a _Scourgify_. The gilt frame gleamed and even the paint seemed to brighten. Harry peered at the nameplate.

_Glenda Gryffindor_

The dates underneath were indistinct but Harry thought one might have read 1359 or something similar. There was nothing else to indicate who the sleeping woman was but Harry rather thought Ron might be at least partially right – something about this room told him it belonged to Gryffindor; the House or the man, he could not be certain. He looked around, seeing nothing else that would give him a clue as to who this room belonged to. A few portions of wood panelled wall caught his attention.

They had probably been there before, the room had given no indication of changing itself around him, but they seemed strangely out of place on the stone walls. Slipping the pendant and broken chain in his pocket he padded over to the wood panels. He stood in front of them for a moment with the absurd urge to start knocking on them. He had a mad picture of himself in his head, like a character in one of Dudley's television shows, finding a secret passage that led to solving an age old mystery.

Harry snorted to himself. How many years had he spent in an enchanted castle finding secret passages and tunnels and still, for a moment, he thought he was James Bond? Ending his silent speculation of the panels he started to poke them, running his hands over the smooth surfaces, looking for indentations, things to push, levers to pull. Nothing happened. Harry took a few steps back and surveyed the panels thoughtfully. He knew they hid something. He had no idea what it was or how to get to it, but he desperately wanted to find out. He studied the panels carefully looking at the patterns etched around the edges.

They weren't patterns he suddenly realised, they were runes. Harry cursed himself for never taking Ancient Runes and wished he had some parchment to copy them down to show Hermione when he suddenly heard a scratching sound coming from the wall he'd fallen through earlier. He watched with fascination as a hand suddenly pushed its way through. He thought he could hear whispers murmuring at the wall from the other side. The hand abruptly disappeared. Harry stole over to the wall wondering if it had been Ron or … no one else knew about this room he was sure of that. No one had probably been here in centuries.

The hand appeared again, as suddenly as it had vanished last time. Harry studied the hand carefully. It was devoid of freckles. Not Ron then. He took a step backwards. The hand came further into the room and Harry imagined he heard someone whimpering. He didn't feel threatened and yet he pulled his wand out anyway, taking a few steps backwards. He was only just in time to avoid Neville stumbling through the wall.

"-just like the bloody platform, you wimp!" Ginny followed Neville through, falling on top of him, the two of them landing in a heap on the floor and raising a cloud of dust. Harry coughed and waved frantically to clear the air.

"Oh that's nice," Neville muttered mutinously, disentangling himself from Ginny. "I do this to save _your_ boyfriend and all you can do is swear at me like a sailor."

"Where are Ron and Hermione and Luna?" Ginny stood up and examined the wall, pressing her hands against it urgently. "Why didn't they come through?" Neville looked up and noticed Harry watching them in amusement.

"Harry!" the other man said, sounding incredibly relieved. "We found you!" Ginny spun around so quickly she nearly lost her balance.

"Harry! You're all right!" She threw herself at him, holding him in a vice like grip, which threatened to cut off his oxygen supply.

"Ron came flying out of the fireplace and then he stood there, watching it for ages. It was really weird," Neville said as Harry loosened Ginny's hold on his neck. "Hermione asked what he was doing and that's when he held up his bag of Floo powder and sort of went white."

"He said he lost you," Ginny murmured into Harry's chest.

"Stupid git took the Floo powder through the Floo with him," muttered Harry. "You lot took your time coming to find me."

"Ron couldn't get through the wall," Ginny said looking up at him. "He tried and tried and nothing worked we've been wandering up and down the stairs and then Neville and Luna showed up-"

"We were just trying to get away from Filch," muttered Neville. "He watches us. I think he thinks we're sneaking off to … you know." Neville blushed a bright red and waved a hand ineffectually. Harry grinned.

"So he started helping us," Ginny continued. "Ron said you were probably trapped, you couldn't get through the wall again and … I didn't think we were going to find you!" Her eyes were shining brightly with tears and Harry realised she was close to tears or hysteria.

"Shhhh, you've found me now," he soothed, stroking her hair softly.

"Yeah, only how will we get out again?" Neville said glumly. "Ron's still got the Floo powder." Neville cursed violently and swung his fist at the wall.

No one was more surprised than Harry to see Neville's fist go sailing through it. Neville lost his balance and his head and torso fell through the wall, his legs sticking out from the wall on the floor incongruously.

"What the …" Harry darted to the wall, stretching his hand out; he hovered in front of the wall uncertainly. Ginny had no such qualms and slapped the wall with both hands as Neville's feet dragged through and vanished.

"It's solid!" she cried exasperatedly. Harry looked at her before carefully pressing his hand against the wall.

"Only Ron tried to get through before," Harry said as his hand disappeared into the stonework. Ginny's jaw dropped. "I'm not sure why, but … it's me and Neville …"

Taking a deep breath he pushed his face through the wall. Hermione, Ron, Neville and Luna were standing on the other side.

"Hello!" he said cheerfully. Hermione gave a strangled scream.

"Hello, Harry Potter," Luna said calmly. Ron stared at him before slapping the wall near his left ear. Harry winced and stretched an arm through the wall, grasping Hermione's hand.

"Neville, grab Ron and step through," Harry said and pulled himself back through the wall. Hermione followed.

"Merlin, Harry!" Hermione breathed when she caught her breath. Neville and Ron appeared at that moment. Neville had a sort of grimace on his face suggesting he was not in favour of this method of travelling through walls. Harry grinned at him and stuck and arm through the wall. He felt Luna grab his hand and pulled backwards but her hand slipped out of his grasp and his own was empty when he pulled it back through.

Harry frowned and tried again with the same result. He cast a helpless look at the others and stepped fully through the wall and into the staircase.

"I do not think I can get through, Harry," Luna said serenely. She was perched on one of the steps, leaning against the opposite wall. She pulled a _Quibbler_ out of her bag. "I will wait here until Gryffindor's room has finished showing you its secrets."

Harry just stared at her, nodded and stepped back through the wall into the cavernous room beyond.

"-so it must be, don't you see?" Hermione was standing in the middle of the room flushed and excited. "Oh Harry, it's another secret chamber!"

"Secret room," muttered Ginny mutinously. "Can we please call it a room?"

"Not just a room," Ron said, striding to the tiny door and grasping the handle. The door swung open but did not get larger. "That's odd." Ron frowned at the door and pushed it closed before opening it again.

"What's odd?" asked Neville. He looked awestruck and stared wide-eyed around the room.

"Harry opened it and it grew big enough to fit him through," Ron said, pushing the door closed again and turning to face the others. "Harry, where's Luna?"

"She um … she couldn't get through," Harry shrugged. "She told me she'd wait for us after Gryffindor's room had finished showing us its secrets."

"Told you it was a room," Ginny smirked. Neville made his way to the little door Ron was glowering at and reached out a hand, grasping the door knob. Hermione gasped.

The door was growing, expanding, getting wider and getting taller.

"How come it works for him?" Ron grumbled belligerently.

"Well, obviously the room responds to them," Hermione said thoughtfully. "They are the ones who can get through the wall as well."

"Because they're Gryffindors?" Ginny asked, frowning.

"We're all Gryffindors," Ron retorted. "Except Luna."

"And she couldn't get in at all," Hermione mused. "What have Neville and Harry got in common then?"

"Blokes of the same age," Ron said immediately. "Which would mean something if I wasn't also a bloke … the same age as them." He looked glum and glared at the door malevolently. Neville had pushed it open and was peering around the doorframe.

"It's not the prophecy is it," he said as he pulled his head back into the room. "We were both … mentioned … sort of …" Hermione shook her head, beginning to pace around the room. She stopped in front of the portrait Harry had cleaned. She peered at the nameplate.

"Glenda …"

"Who's Glenda?" Ron asked loudly, still glaring at the door into the duelling room.

"Gryffindor?" Ginny asked, crossing swiftly to where Hermione was examining the portrait of the woman wearing the pendant. "Glenda Gryffindor was the last known descendant of Godric Gryffindor. She was a teacher here at Hogwarts until sometime in the thirteen hundreds and she ... went missing." Ginny shrugged.

"How do you know all that?" Ron asked incredulously.

"I read, Ronald," Ginny replied loftily. It was such an uncanny impression of Hermione that Harry struggled not to laugh.

"I can't believe the last Gryffindor was a _girl_," Ron grumbled. Ginny's eyes flashed fire and Harry spoke hastily before she could react.

"Hermione can you come look at these runes?" he asked, overly loudly and gesturing towards the wooden panels. Hermione hurried over, immediately lost in the runes.

"C'mon," Harry gestured to Neville and Ginny, "we'll show you the duelling room." The four of them went through the doorway and, lighting the torches on the wall, gazed around at the glittering array of weaponry and armour.

"It's like some sort of … armoury," Neville murmured. He wandered to a nearby display case of swords and daggers lying open on a side table. The metallic instruments were strewn haphazardly. Neville picked up one of the daggers.

"Are you sure that's safe, Neville?" Ginny asked, alarmed. Neville swung to look at her, the blade of the dagger flashed in the torchlight.

"It matches the sword," he said excitedly. "Look!" Encrusted with rubies, the hilt of the dagger indeed resembled that of the Sword of Gryffindor.

"Gryffindor's room indeed," murmured Ron.

"But … there weren't any other artefacts," Harry said, staring at the dagger.

"I'd say this room is full of your artefacts, mate," grinned Ron.

"And I know why only you can Neville can communicate with the room," Hermione announced from the doorway. The four swung to look at her. She was clutching a piece of parchment and her cheeks were flushed.

"The Hat _gave_ you the Sword," she said. "The runes, they're a … a sort of prophecy." Harry groaned audibly.

"We can get in because we got the Sword?" Neville asked, his brow furrowed.

"Only a true Gryffindor could pull that sword from the Hat," Harry murmured, staring at the rubies glittering on the dagger Neville still held.

"Don't you see?" Hermione practically bounced up and down in the doorway.

"Not really, Hermione," Harry sighed.

"The runes, listen!" Hermione backed out into the carpeted room. The others followed. "I translated it. It's sort of like a prophecy … only not really and not really instructions either, sort of a cross between the two."

"Well, what does it say, woman?" Ron demanded and Hermione gave him a piercing look. Ron remained unrepentant, grinning at Hermione cheerfully. She shook her head, straightened her parchment and read. "_When two come, true and strong, pure of heart and courage long, then shall the secrets throng, when two hands join along_."

"What the hell does that mean?" Ron asked.

"Neville and Harry can probably reveal whatever is behind these wooden panels," Hermione explained.

"How did you get that, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"It's the Sword," Ginny murmured. "You two are the only ones who received the Sword. I think … I think it's like you are recognised by this room or something."

"There's something behind these panels and together Neville and Harry can open it," Hermione said.

"Open it? How?" asked Neville. Hermione shrugged.

"Well I'm not doing anything about it right now," Harry said decisively. "Luna is outside on the steps waiting and I still haven't showered and it's nearly time to eat. It's obviously been here for hundreds of years, it can wait a few more days."

Neville and Harry took the others back through the wall and soon they were all clustered on the steep stairs. Harry looked up. The stairs no longer vanished into darkness, he could see a landing and the six of them trooped up and out onto the seventh floor.

********************

There was little time for Harry and Neville to explore the hidden room in the next few weeks. Harry and Ginny had been overseeing the conversion of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place into a children's home and Neville spent every spare moment with his plants or Luna. Harry had selected a band of hopeful first and second years who were training with him to be ready for next year's Quidditch trials. Between all that, schoolwork and Quidditch practice for their upcoming match against Slytherin, time seemed to slip away faster than the sand in an hourglass.

The days before Hallowe'en seemed to fly by particularly fast until the day was upon them. Harry felt a strange sense of peace about Hallowe'en that he had not felt before. He supposed it was the effect of the end of the Second War. He couldn't recall a Hallowe'en since he was eleven when he felt only soft memories of his parents and not the horribly grim reality that they had been murdered.

It was a Saturday and the first Hogsmeade weekend but the first Quidditch game of the year was the following weekend. Practice was higher on the agenda than a visit to Honeydukes. After a fast and furious Quiddicth practice that left Ginny aching after a few too many Bludgers got sent her way, she kissed Harry thoroughly before excusing herself to soak in a long bath, nodding to Hermione who was brooding in front of the common room fire.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry sat down quietly next to his best friend.

"Oh, hello, Harry," Hermione said vaguely, staring at the flickering flames.

"What's up?"

"Do you think … do you think I should … that Ron and I … that is … is it a good idea for us to … there's the next level …?" Hermione spluttered and stopped. Her eyes pleaded with Harry to understand what she was saying without making her say it.

Harry was surprised. He had assumed Ron and Hermione experienced pretty much all the things a romantic relationship had to offer. He had not expected to be asked this question; especially not from Hermione.

"Erm …" he said rather eloquently.

"You see, I just was so sure that I wanted to wait and then I wasn't and, Merlin, Harry, some of the things you can do without doing well …" Hermione bit her lip and stared at him. Harry forced himself to look calm. Inside his belly was churning. She couldn't be asking him _this_.

"I think you should write to your mum," he said weakly.

"She doesn't _know_ Ron," Hermione turned soulful eyes on him. "All she said was 'Be careful'." Hermione snorted. Harry smiled. Soon the two of them were laughing, Harry rolling about on the hearth rug like Ron had on the day Harry had first kissed Cho Chang.

"Ron loves you," Harry said when they had finally calmed down. "He has for years."

"I know," Hermione nodded. She grinned at him. "Want to go see Hagrid?"

"Race you," answered Harry and he darted out of the common room, Hermione on his heels.

Harry and Hermione spent most of the afternoon arguing with Hagrid over getting rid of his Quintaped. The creature was now the size and disposition of one of Aunt Marge's overfed bulldogs. It could stick one of its five clubbed feet out of the steel cage Hermione had transfigured and tried to swipe at Harry and Hermione repeatedly.

"Hagrid, you've got to set him free," Hermione pleaded. "He's all squashed up in there. Take him to Mr Weasley. He can let the relevant department at the Ministry get him home."

"He's perfectly fine when it's just me and him," Hagrid said stoutly. "Likes Grawp too."

"Well, you're giants," Hermione said exasperatedly.

"I'm only half," Hagrid protested. Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

"Won't it attack Arthur?" Harry said warily eyeing the monster. It flashed its horrible teeth at him.

"Oh 'e's still jest a baby," Hagrid said, "and he's friendly like too. All bark, no bite this one."

"Looks like he could bite," Hermione muttered.

"Oh 'e's still too little to be doin' anyone any real 'arm," Hagrid said airily. "Iffen 'e bit yer, it'd be no more'n a scratch." He dismissed Hermione's concerns with a wave of one dustbin lid sized hand.

"You'd have to stun it to transport it," Hermione looked at the Quintaped with some distaste.

"Can't I jest set 'im lose in the forest?" Hagrid pleaded. "Then 'e can come visit."

"He'll find his way to the castle, Hagrid," Hermione said exasperatedly. They argued, at odds, on and off for hours between bucket sized cups of tea and treacle fudge so hard it made Harry's jaw ache when he tried to be polite.

"Please, Hagrid," Hermione pleaded as she wound a scarf around her neck and lower face. "You've got to take him back home. He's a terrible danger to us here."

"Always something around here is a terrible danger," muttered Harry darkly as the two of them made their way back to the castle. "It's probably been sent here to kill me. Everything always is."

"Oh Harry," said Hermione exasperatedly. She rolled her eyes at him. "I thought you were done feeling gloomy on Hallowe'en?"

"Can't help it," Harry complained. "It's dark and creepy out here." The shadows were lengthening over the grounds.

"The forest is creepier than this!" she exclaimed, rolling her eyes at him. "You are being melancholy. No study for you and Ginny tonight. You need a distraction." Harry grinned at her as she marched ahead of him and pushed the doors open and stepped into the Entrance Hall. A whole evening with Ginny and the only price to pay was a few moments of melancholy. It was too good to be true – but he'd take it.

They stayed at the feast only long enough not to arouse suspicion. As soon as Harry had bolted down a slice of treacle tart and Ginny had delicately eaten a bowl of trifle they excused themselves with murmurs about studying. They seemed to be taken at their word; only Neville hid his smile behind his ice cream. Harry took the stairs two at a time back up to Gryffindor Tower, Ginny hurrying to keep up.

She eventually cornered him on the fifth floor landing and, draping her arms around his neck she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. Harry stared at her for a long moment as her words sunk in.

"You want to what?" he asked weakly.

"The Gryffindor room," she said again. "I want us to go there, be … there." It made sense, Harry mused. No one could get in except Neville. It wasn't very cozy, though. He said as much to Ginny as she pulled him down a flight of stairs heading for the portrait that concealed the staircase.

"It's a bit … big and … sort of ballroomy, don't you think?"

"Ballroomy?" Ginny arched an eyebrow at him and leapt off a moving staircase onto the third floor landing. Harry shrugged sheepishly. "There's a fireplace …" Ginny trailed off and Harry looked at her. She was worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. Harry felt a sudden tenderness sweep over him. He reached out and pulled her towards him.

"Yeah in the duelling room," he murmured against her neck, kissing her delicately. Ginny shivered.

"Firelight is very … romantic," she said breathlessly.

"There's a fireplace in the common room," Harry reasoned.

"But in the common room … people could walk in," Ginny seemed to be holding her breath. It hit Harry like a tonne of Bludgers.

"Oh," was all he said. Ginny reached up to kiss him then and he was lost. This woman could have whatever she wanted as far as Harry was concerned. If she wanted to be in front of a fire, all alone, then he had no objections whatsoever.

***************

Harry and Ginny crept back to Gryffindor Tower up the secret staircase several hours later. Harry was Head Boy and unlikely to get a detention for being out after curfew, but he still didn't want to run into anyone – not looking quite as dishevelled as they currently did. The pair of them held hands and grinned stupidly at one another. At the top of the staircase Harry pulled Ginny to him and kissed her softly. She wound her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him. Harry groaned.

"Stop that," he whispered. "We need to get back to the common room." Ginny pouted at him and trailed her hands down his chest, around his waist and under his shirt. Harry shook his head at her ruefully. If anyone ever tried to insinuate he had taken advantage of Ginny Weasley … they'd have it wrong.

"No one will miss us," Ginny whispered back. Her hands fluttered to his belt and Harry grabbed at them.

"Is it too late to get Ron to start defending _my_ honour?" he asked against her lips.

"Too late for defending anything," Ginny giggled. Harry blushed.

"We're not telling _them_ that, are we?" he asked her urgently.

"Our little secret," Ginny promised, reaching up to give Harry a kiss. "I _like_ your little Gryffindor room." Her hands began travelling over his torso.

"I used to hate Hallowe'en," he murmured as he gave up any pretence of stopping her. He had just decided to take Ginny back down the stairs and through the mysterious wall when he heard shouting and frantic footsteps in the corridor. Harry exchanged a look with Ginny and the two of them raced back up the several steps they'd just come down and burst into the corridor.

Instead of a darkened, deserted corridor they saw a brightly lit scene of pandemonium. The Fat Lady hung open at the end of the corridor and students milled around the entrance but Harry couldn't tell if they were trying to get in or out of the portrait hole. The portrait was yelling obscenities at the students for unbecoming behaviour. Professor Crockwell stood at the portrait hole remonstrating with the Fat Lady in an ineffective manner. Hermione and Neville were thundering towards Harry and Ginny; Dexter was screeching something about Bart and Gerald Chumley leant against one wall his head in a book looking bored while Crookshanks and several other pets milled around the feet of the students.

"Where have you been?" Hermione panted as she and Neville drew level with them. "It's just awful." She grabbed his sleeve and began pulling Harry back to the common room.

"What's going on?" demanded Harry as he stumbled over his own feet when he began hurrying back to the portrait hole at her insistence.

"There's a Quintaped in Gryffindor Tower!" Hermione said. Harry stopped dead and stared at her.

"A what?" he asked weakly. Hermione gave him a knowing look that neither of the other two noticed.

"A Quintaped!" exclaimed Neville. "I don't know how it got here but those things are dangerous and … blimey, Harry, they're deadly!"

"What are we going to do?" Ginny asked.

"Professor McGonagall's gone to fetch Hagrid," Hermione said briskly. "Let's go and calm these students down. It can't hurt any of them – Neville managed to lock it in the Seventh year boys' dormitory."

"What if it gets out, Hermione?" Neville said looking towards the portrait hole nervously.

"Well, didn't you seal the door?" Hermione said as she pushed her way through the students outside the common room.

"Seal?" squeaked Neville.

"And Imperturb it?" Hermione said, turning just before she climbed through the portrait hole. There was a splintering sound from upstairs and a shout.

"I just pulled the door shut," Neville shouted frantically. "It hasn't got hands to open the door-"

"Maybe it doesn't need hands!" Seamus yelled as he hurtled out of the stairwell. He turned frantically. "DEAN!"

"Dean's up there?" Harry asked, horrified.

"He was right behind me," Seamus said as he hurtled back to the stairwell, Harry on his heels.

Harry dimly heard Hermione and Ginny screaming at him and Neville bellowing Seamus's name as he took the stairs two at a time. He and Seamus got to the first landing and found Dean stumbling down the stairs, his wand dangling from one hand and blood dripping through the fingers of his other as he clutched his thigh.

"Damn thing got me," he said through gritted teeth. "I stunned it but it took a bit of effort. I dunno how long it'll stay down." He swayed a little and sat down suddenly on the last step before the landing.

"Seamus, get him to the hospital wing," said Harry. He stepped around Dean, his wand out.

"Harry, where d'you think you're going?" Dean asked. "It took four stunners to take that thing down! It's a killer!"

"When Hagrid gets here, send him up!" was all Harry said as he took the rest of the steps two at a time. He ignored Seamus and Dean bellowing up at him and kept running frantically up the stairs until he came to where the Quintaped lay in a heap outside the sixth year dormitory.

Five legs twitched feebly but it didn't move apart from that. Harry approached cautiously. He wondered, not for the first time, how the creature came to be here if the island it came from was Unplottable. Harry looked around the cramped landing. It would be easier for Hagrid to re-cage this monster downstairs and thankfully, McGonagall would make him give it up to the Department for the Care and Control of Magical Creatures. Harry began to levitate it downstairs.

He was halfway down and manoeuvring the creature around a particularly tight corner when it stirred. Harry looked at it warily but it still seemed to be mostly out. If he stopped to cast a Stunner he'd probably drop it. He just had to get down quickly. The landing he was on didn't allow for more than a few centimetres between Harry and the splayed legs of the hairy monster. He shuddered and screwed up his nose as the hairs brushed his arm. He'd be glad when he got rid of this. Dean probably deserved a medal for taking this thing out. He could hear people calling him faintly but didn't answer them as he concentrated on getting the Quintaped around the corner without banging it on the wall and waking it up.

The next landing was as tricky as the one before it and just before he sent the creature straight down the flight of stairs he heard Hagrid thump into the common room.

"I swear 'e were goin' back to the Ministry on Monday," Hagrid's voice sobbed faintly. "I didn't mean for this to 'appen."

"Yes, well, be that as it may," Professor McGonagall said stiffly. "You have scared an entire House and injured at least one student!"

"It's my fault Professor McGonagall," Hermione said. "I knew about the Quintaped but Hagrid swore he'd look after it and he promised to send it back when it was grown!"

"While it may have been ill advised of you not to have informed another Professor," McGonagall's voice was clipped, "it is not your responsibility, Miss Granger. We can only hope no more students are injured."

"But 'e were locked up, Professor," Hagrid protested. "Everyone were at th' feast. Ain't no way Monty coulda gotten inter th' Tower."

"Where is Mr Potter?" Professor McGonagall sounded worried.

"He's up there," Ginny replied. She sounded more worried. "With the Quintaped." Harry levitated the hairy beast another few steps. One landing and the last flight to go and he could get rid of this thing.

"Step back," he called, his voice wavering with the strain of maintaining the levitation in such a cramped area. "This thing is coming first." He grimaced as he bumped the Quintaped into a wall and then stumbled into it. One of the legs waved ominously. Harry held his breath and concentrated on just getting the Quintaped the last few metres and then never seeing the thing again.

"Harry, are you all right?" Ginny called.

"Yeah, just … I'm nearly-"

" 'Arry! I'm sorry 'bout that, Monty were secured before I came up!" Hagrid practically bellowed.

It all happened so fast, the Quintaped roused itself when it heard Hagrid's voice and began to thrash violently. Harry jumped out of the way of one clubbed foot but his levitation spell was wavering badly and the Quintaped swung towards him, its eyes had flickered open and razor sharp teeth were flashing dangerously. Harry had next to no chance in the tiny stairwell and although he tried to jump out of the way a flailing club-foot caught him on the chest and Harry slipped down several steps.

With an anguished cry his concentration broke and the Quintaped came crashing down on him. Harry threw his arms up to shield his face and a glimpse of sharp teeth dripping with saliva was the last thing he saw before his head hit a stone step and blackness descended upon him.

**************

When Harry awoke his left arm and shoulder were on fire and a herd of Hippogriffs were stampeding through his head. Something wet and sticky covered his neck and he felt as if he were slowly floating away. He didn't want to go, he wasn't supposed to go. When someone grasped his hand, he held on tight as if he were holding a lifeline. He thought he heard someone whisper that they wouldn't let him go but he couldn't be sure because the pain was unbearable, like a siren screaming through his brain and he couldn't hear anything but his own thudding heartbeat pounding along with the herd of Hippogriffs and the sirens of pain.

He couldn't be dying; it didn't hurt this much to die.

Harry gripped the hand holding his own and concentrated on staying alive. He almost laughed to himself. How did you concentrate on staying alive anyway? Now ironically, dying was something he knew how to concentrate on. The pain began to recede and the grip on his hand seemed to loosen and hysteria welled up inside him, was he dying now? He had to see Ginny.

"Ginny …" Harry whispered. It hurt to talk, it hurt to breathe.

The world came into sharp focus right before the blackness claimed him again. He could hear Hermione whisper softly. He heard Hagrid weeping and Professor McGonagall speaking briskly, coldly. He felt gentle hands on his arm and neck and he saw Ginny hovering over him; she brushed his hair from his face gently.

"Hang in there, Harry," she pleaded as his eyes slid shut against his will. "Madame Pomfrey's coming; just please, hang on."

Harry squeezed her hand again and let the blackness claim him. It was easier that way.

**************

Harry could hear whispering. He moved experimentally. The back of his head still throbbed but the herd of Hippogriffs had gone. His left arm and shoulder tingled but there was no more burning sensation. He reached up to touch his neck; a bandage replaced the wet, sticky coating. He opened his eyes tentatively. The whispering had stopped, now there was rustling. He was in the hospital wing and only one lamp lit the small space around his bed. A small space that was crammed with people.

"Harry?" Ginny was hovering over him just as she had been when he closed his eyes. He opened his mouth.

"How are you feeling, son?" Arthur enquired. He was standing on the other side of Harry's bed with Molly.

"Awful," Harry admitted ruefully with a painful cough. "What … happened?"

"Don't try to talk, dear," Molly said. She smoothed the blankets across his chest and stroked his cheek tenderly.

"The Quintaped got you," said Ginny, her voice wavering slightly. "But you're fine now. You're going to be fine."

"Hagrid?" Harry croaked. Ginny frowned slightly.

"He … he's really sorry," Hermione's voice came from behind Ginny. "He didn't break any regulations so he's not in any legal trouble." Ginny's face clouded over.

"Not in any trouble?" Molly huffed. "I'll show him some trouble. Fancy having that … that thing near a school! He's going to hear a few things from me! If he thinks he's not in trouble for nearly killing one of _my_ children, he can think again!"

"Well he is in an awful lot of trouble with Professor McGonagall," Hermione allowed.

"I should think so!" Molly exclaimed. "I honestly don't know what he was thinking! How did it get so far into the castle? That's what I'd like to know."

"It's a good thing no one was in that dorm," Ron said as he peered over Ginny's shoulder. "Neville said he thought you were, at first. You and Ginny left the feast early and he couldn't find you, thought you had gone upstairs." Harry met Ginny's eyes and noticed the faint blush on her cheeks, but no one commented on where they had been.

"Someone had to let it in," George said suddenly.

"The password," Percy murmured. Was the whole family there?

"Well that's fairly obvious, isn't it?" Ron said sarcastically. "Or do you think dangerous creatures with a taste for human flesh routinely roam the castle and Gryffindor Tower?"

"Who would want to let one into the Tower?" Percy asked. He was pacing at the foot of the bed. "How'd Hagrid get a Quintaped anyway?"

"Down the pub," Ron said bitterly, "where he gets everything."

"S'not Hagrid's fault," Harry said, breathing heavily.

"No, it's mine," Hermione wailed suddenly and Harry heard her flee in a flurry of footsteps. The doors of the hospital wing crashed open and Ron muttered a hasty apology and vanished. Harry closed his eyes and willed everyone else to go away.

"We need to go," Arthur said quietly. "Let you get some sleep."

"Thanks …" Harry breathed, "for … for coming." The Weasleys murmured their goodbyes and left the room quietly and Harry let out a sigh and groaned at an unexpected pain that shot through his arm.

"Harry? Are you in pain?" Ginny asked. Harry opened his eyes swiftly. He thought she'd gone and that he was alone. It was the only reason he'd groaned. He stared at Ginny wide eyed for a moment. She stared back.

"I can get Madame Pomfrey," Ginny said quietly.

"No … that's okay," Harry said, knowing that if she fetched the matron she would also be sent away. He suddenly wanted her to stay very badly. "Stay." He couldn't reach for her, his arm felt like lead but she seemed to know what he wanted and pulled a chair close to the bed and pulled his hand into her own before kissing his cheek and sitting down.

"It's late," she whispered. "Get some sleep." Harry closed his eyes and leaned into her touch as she began smoothing the hair back from his face tenderly. He only had a vague idea what was going on but somehow, everything felt right with the world.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36. Under the Surface**

Harry spent a week trying to be a model patient. It took all his concentration. He was hoping that by not attempting to break out of the hospital wing early the matron wouldn't preclude him from the first match of the season. As he sat glumly on the window seat on Friday afternoon, he realised it probably hadn't worked. Classes would finish any moment now and Ginny would be taking the team down to the pitch for a final practice. With any luck she'd have managed to talk Demelza or Dean into Chasing so that she could play Seeker. Madam Pomfrey hadn't given any hint that he'd even be able to go out and watch the game tomorrow morning.

Harry stretched his left arm in front of himself and sighed. A raised, red scar wound its way across the back of his left hand. The scar disappeared up the sleeve of his pyjama top. Harry knew it snaked all the way up his arm to the new skin across his shoulder. Magical means of healing were much faster than Muggle methods, but even hoping he'd be allowed to play tomorrow was probably fruitless. Harry leaned his head on the window and sighed heavily. He was fed up with the hospital wing.

He hadn't wanted for company at first. Most of the Weasleys had dropped in for a while on Sunday to sit with him while he'd dozed on and off between potions for the pain. Kingsley had stopped by on Monday with _The Daily Prophet_ which detailed his unfortunate encounter in horrible and exaggerated detail. Thankfully Neville and Luna had enough free time to open the avalanche of Owl post that arrived and to share the mountains of gifts out among the first and second years who hadn't been able to go to Hogsmeade on the weekend.

Hermione spent a lot of the time after class sitting with him; but it was Ginny who stayed until curfew, curled up next to him on the bed while she ploughed through the notes Hermione had assigned as part of her study program. Hagrid was conspicuously absent. Molly spent most of Sunday berating him and he'd spent most of Monday sobbing into his tablecloth-sized handkerchief. Hermione confessed that she had yelled at him and Professor McGonagall had called in Professor Grubbly-Plank to take Hagrid's lessons for the week while he 'sorted out the mess he'd created'.

The Quintaped had been confined and taken to the Ministry but the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures was debating with the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes who was exactly responsible for it, while the Aurors tried to find the Unplottable island to take it home.

"It's a real mystery," Ron said with relish when he came to visit on Wednesday evening. "No one knows where it is, so how the egg got to the Hogs Head is anyone's guess. Aberforth's dead annoyed with the investigation traipsing through his pub and Dad reckons there's something mysterious going on at the Ministry … in the Department of Mysteries."

"Well, isn't that where the mysteries are, Ron?" Ginny smirked.

"No, something more mysterious… there're Aurors going in and out of there all the time," Ron said seriously, ignoring her. "Percy came home the other day, reckoned he heard from Stella, that's his secretary, who heard from the tea lady at St Mungo's, that there was an Auror on the first floor who tried to tell the Healers he was bitten by a Quintaped. Reckons he went to the island to get an egg back in June. They all thought he was delusional, sent him to the fourth floor. He's been there ever since."

"I hope they are taking him seriously now," sniffed Hermione from behind a large book titled _Ancient Runes: Not as Dull as You Thought_.

"Not really," said Ron cheerfully. "He also tried to tell them he'd seen a Crumple Horned Snorkack when he went to get the Quintaped." Hermione snorted.

By the end of the week the visitors had slowed to almost no one. Harry hadn't been in any pain for days and he spent most of his time resting dutifully. He did the homework Hermione brought him, read Quidditch magazines and slept.

He was bored.

Harry didn't bother to turn around when he heard brisk footsteps. Madam Pomfrey often came to check on him and change his bandages at this time of the day. Harry still had his neck bandaged and he waited a moment for the matron to set out her supplies the way she did every day before he turned around. When he did turn he was surprised to see that she was merely standing next to his bed, her usual bottles of potions and rolls of bandages missing.

"Well Mr Potter," said Madam Pomfrey, "best get a move on if you wish me to remove that last bandage so you can go." Harry stared at her. She motioned impatiently to the bed. Harry moved over wordlessly and sat down.

"I'm still not convinced," she muttered as she carefully unwound the bandage from his neck.

"Of what?" Harry asked.

"The Headmistress and Madam Hooch," said Madam Pomfrey, "have asked that I consider your return to the Quidditch field tomorrow." Harry held his breath. The matron tilted his chin slightly and peered at the side of his neck where the Quintaped had attempted to decapitate him. She then moved to expose his left shoulder, over which she pursed her lips and muttered unintelligible sounds.

Harry subjected himself to a thorough examination which involved several spells, the movement of his arm into several positions he was sure his arm should not do naturally and a rather embarrassing visual inspection with his pyjama top off. Harry did not utter a sound the entire time despite the uncomfortable nature of most of the examination.

"Well," Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips. "Considering that for once, Mr Potter, you have behaved admirably while in my care and done everything exactly as you should have done, you may play tomorrow."

"Really?"

"Yes, Mr Potter, really," the matron said dryly. "Come and see me tomorrow morning before the game and I will apply some suitable strapping for the duration of the game to minimise any damage you may sustain by engaging in reckless flying."

"What about practice this afternoon?" Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips and summoned rolls of bandages from her office.

"Do take it easy, Mr Potter," the matron entreated him. "The skin on these scars is still very new. Don't push yourself and stop if you feel any pain."

Harry could barely move his left shoulder when she had finished but he dared not complain. She handed him his robes and some liniment 'for afterwards' and bustled back to her office muttering about reckless Quidditch players. Harry grinned at her retreating back, threw his robes on and hurried out of the hospital wing.

The castle hallways were deserted because students were still in classes and Harry made his way unencumbered up to Gryffindor Tower. He unearthed his practice robes before painstakingly removing the ones he was wearing. He grimaced at his reflection in the mirror. He looked paler than he usually did. The white bandage wound around his neck, across his torso and down his left arm almost to his fingertips. He looked like half a mummy, he thought ruefully. His Firebolt was down in the changing rooms so he pulled the practice robes on, gave up on most of the fastenings, threw a cloak haphazardly over his shoulders and made his way to the Quidditch pitch.

He wasn't sure it was such a good idea by the time he got there. His shoulder was aching a little and he was more out of breath than he would have liked. He'd been through worse, he thought grimly and he really wanted to play Quidditch. The practice Snitch was loose again and Harry watched it idly as he waited for the rest of the team. It didn't take long before they spilled into the changing room, chattering loudly and laughing. Dean was with them and he stopped dead when he saw Harry.

"How'd you get out of Pomfrey's clutches?" he asked.

"Professor McGonagall," Harry grinned.

"Guess you won't need me then." Dean chuckled ruefully.

"Unless you can put Lucy Grant's feet back on the right legs and stop her levitating six feet in the air, you stay!" growled Ginny from the doorway. "There's a reason magic is banned in the hallways!"

"What happened?" Kyle Thorpe asked.

"Fifth year Slytherins," Ginny muttered darkly, throwing her bag onto the bench next to Harry. "They're trying to sabotage the game, I just can't prove it."

"Really?" asked Harry, eyebrow raised. Ginny sighed.

"What are you doing out of the hospital wing?"

"I'm better," Harry grinned at her.

"You look pale," she said shortly. Harry frowned and glanced at the rest of the team. They had all turned away and were pulling protective gear and brooms out of their lockers.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked her quietly.

"I told you, they're sabotaging it," Ginny said, turning away and opening her locker violently. Harry stood up and wandered over to lean against his locker, which was next to hers. They were standing very close and Ginny was pulling protective gear out of her locker with grim determination. She turned to look at him, one glove dangling from her left hand. With her right she reached out to pick up his bandaged left hand.

"Madame Pomfrey said I could play as long as I was strapped up," Harry said as she eyed his hand critically.

"Can you stay on a broom like that?" Ginny demanded, looking up at him. He nodded but she only reached out and ran her finger over his neck. His robes hung partially open and she pulled his collar aside. "You look like a mummy."

"I know, but I want to play," Harry said quietly. "I catch with my right hand. I can do this."

"Mum's going to be so mad if you get on a broom right now," Ginny said as she trailed a hand down his chest, past the bandages and across his warm skin. He shivered remembering the last time she'd done that. She suddenly buried her face in his robes and mumbled something unintelligible.

"Let's not tell your Mum," Harry grinned cheekily. Ginny looked up at him. She looked so serious that Harry faltered. "What's wrong?"

"I got a letter this morning," she looked away, toying with the glove in her hand. "You're going to think I'm terrible."

"Why?" Harry asked softly. "I haven't known you to be terrible at anything."

"You look too injured to play," Ginny said looking at him seriously. "If I didn't get this letter I wouldn't let you play."

"Let me?" Harry raised his eyebrows. "What's so special about this letter?"

"It's from the Harpies," Ginny said. She pulled a crumpled piece of folded parchment from one of her pockets. "They're sending someone out to watch me tomorrow. They have Chaser openings." She handed him the letter.

"That's great!" Harry exclaimed. His left arm was strapped so tight he found it hard to bend and he struggled to unfold the letter.

"See!" Ginny cried. "You can't even open it! How can you play Quidditch?"

"But if I don't," Harry looked up at Ginny, "you have to play Seeker." She nodded, looking miserable.

"I just … I figured I wouldn't worry about it, you know," she said, staring at the letter. "Maybe they'd understand, send someone else later. Maybe they'd even consider me for Chaser based on the way I play Seeker. Then I thought about getting one of the second years you've been training … I've been just feeling sick about it all day. I can't just get one of those second years, who can barely fly, to play Seeker just so I can show off my Chasing skills.

"Then Lucy got hexed and I thought we'd have to forfeit all together. When I saw you I thought … for a moment I thought … I can play Chaser! But look at you! You're all bandaged up! You can't play! And I'm standing here thinking 'I don't care' because with you back on the team I can be a Chaser." She turned away and yanked some of her Quidditch uniform viciously out of the locker.

"That's not terrible," Harry said quietly.

"Yes it is!" Ginny cried. "What if you … fell off or something?"

"I don't fall off!" Harry said indignantly. Ginny just looked at him. "Well, maybe I fell off a couple times."

"It's awful of me!" Ginny cried, throwing her uniform back into her locker. "I cannot believe I ever even entertained the thought!" She turned to Harry. She looked furious.

"It's okay-"

"No!" Ginny said forcefully. "It isn't. Look at you! You are covered in bandages!" She pushed his robes aside and ran her hands over his chest, across the bandages that Madam Pomfrey had wound around his body.

"It's just to protect the new skin," Harry said. "I'm fine."

"You could have died," Ginny suddenly sobbed. "There was so much blood. I was kneeling in it!"

Harry reached out and pulled her close, motioning to the rest of the team to go out onto the pitch. They left slowly. Harry had not heard anyone speak of the moment he'd been attacked on the staircase. It had become an event that everyone skirted around. Professor McGonagall had visited with him for nearly and hour on Tuesday morning, making small talk about his grades and Teddy. Hermione talked only of studying and Neville kept up a monologue about plants whenever Harry tried to ask what had happened.

Madam Pomfrey refused to say more than he was quite fine now. Then she would tip another potion down his throat before he could ask her anything else. Dean and Seamus had stopped by Monday night and launched into a recap of the most recent Puddlemere United game. In the end Harry gave up trying to find out what happened after he lost consciousness on the stairs. He had not attempted to ask Ginny after that and she had not volunteered.

"Shhhhh," Harry whispered into her hair. "I didn't die. It was just a little bite."

"Little?" Ginny shrieked suddenly. She pulled away from him. "It tore up your arm! Your robes were shredded and it slashed your neck open. Do you know how close it was to slitting your throat?"

"But it didn't."

"Only because Neville ran up there," Ginny cried. "He blew it off you with some blasting hex or something, I don't know. I can't remember what he said." She shuddered.

"I tried to go but … Hermione held me back," Ginny sobbed. "She told me you'd be safe with Neville. But it was awful and there was so much blood …

"We didn't know if you would be all right, you know. Mum and Dad were frantic and Ron was climbing the walls. We had to wait forever and I was still covered in your blood …"

"I know it would have looked bad," Harry said, "but it was just a bite or two, really."

"I know," Ginny said softly. "Once Madam Pomfrey let us back in she explained that a lot of it was superficial bites - they just bled a lot - especially the one on your neck because it got close to some important arteries and things. The worst was your shoulder, where it took a chunk, she said she fixed that. It was the blood loss and the bump on the head that made you pass out."

"She did fix my shoulder," Harry said, pulling Ginny close again. "I'm fine, honestly. She said I could play."

"It's pretty soon," Ginny said, running her hands over his bandaged arm. "I can't believe I nearly talked myself into letting you play, all for a stupid Harpies tryout opportunity." She shook her head and pulled away dragging her practice robes out again.

"Maybe Demelza will Chase," Ginny sighed. She pushed her locker door closed. "If I go and talk her into it now we've still got time to practice before tea." Ginny pulled her hair back into a ponytail and turned in the direction of the door. Harry reached out and grabbed her with his left hand. She looked down at where his bandaged hand gripped her upper arm.

"Play Chaser," Harry said. "We've got a Seeker."

"Harry-"

"I'm still the Captain," Harry said quietly. "You don't want to miss this chance. You play Chaser. I'm the Seeker."

"Harry, look at you," Ginny sighed. "There will be other chances. I'm not going to put you in any more danger."

"This is the best chance you've got," Harry said urgently. "I am not in any pain; I have clearance from the matron. You have to do this."

"Are you sure?" Ginny asked, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "You're not in any pain?" Harry shook his head.

"I swear," he replied. "Fit as a fiddle, see?" Harry swung his arm experimentally. The strapping pulled a little and a dull pain started in his shoulder but Harry ignored it.

"You're not going to cause any more damage?"

"That's what the strapping is for," Harry said patiently.

"Because my Quidditch career isn't worth your health."

"Ginny," Harry said. "I can do this. I'm the Seeker. I'm the Captain. You are our star Chaser; soon to be star Harpies Chaser." Ginny stared at him, eyeing his practice robes.

"You couldn't do your robes up properly, could you?" she asked. Harry shook his head. Ginny sighed and reached out to properly fasten them. "Please don't fall off." She looked up at him as she finished smoothing his robes and Harry smiled at her.

"Let's go," he said as he opened his locker and pulled out his own protective arm guards. He eyed them warily and Ginny took them wordlessly and began putting them on. Harry smiled at her sheepishly. They followed the rest of the team onto the pitch.

"Don't fall," Ginny said as he mounted his broom. Harry rolled his eyes at her and took off. For one terrifying moment he thought he was going to fall off but he righted himself quickly.

'_That would have looked bad,'_ he thought ruefully as he anchored himself securely, testing how difficult it was to manoeuvre his broom with his left arm strapped up so securely. It seemed fine as he flew a few laps of the pitch and took a few sharp turns. Once Harry was in the air, things loosened up a bit and there was a little more room to move.

"Send some Bludgers at me!" Harry called to the two Beaters. "I want to see if I can dodge them!" Harry had a few close calls but managed to dodge them all. The rest of the practice went relatively well, except when Dean decided Ginny was throwing wrong.

"You can't throw _wrong_, Dean," Ginny shouted sarcastically. "You just aim and throw!"

"Well then your aim is stupid," Dean said stubbornly.

"Who are you, the Captain all of a sudden?" Ginny flew over to Dean and hovered, hands on hips, in front of him.

"Look, I just care about winning the game-"

"If you really cared you'd have tried out for the team!" Ginny shrieked.

"Oh, and be forced to continually watch you and Harry-" Dean stopped abruptly and whirled around, flying swiftly to the ground before dismounting and stalking towards the changing rooms. Ginny swooped down in front of Dean, leaping off her broom and turning to face him. Harry watched from the air as they exchanged heated words.

Ginny shook her head exasperatedly and started gesturing wildly with her arms, pointing to the Quidditch hoops, the stands and her broom. Harry was too far away to hear but he could tell Ginny had convinced Dean to return to practice. Dean got back on his broom and soared up into the air, Ginny followed. Harry wondered if she'd told him about the Harpies letter. He didn't ask either of them and just continued practice until it was time to go in for tea.

The rest of the practice went smoothly. Harry caught the practice Snitch without too much trouble and his shoulder seemed fine. Unless there were nasty surprises in the morning, they were a good bet to win the match.

*************

Harry's first nasty surprise the next morning was how much he ached. Ginny had offered to rub in the jar of liniment Madam Pomfrey had given him. Thinking of the raised, red scars all the way up his left arm and shoulder, Harry went back to his dorm, claiming fatigue, to unwind the bandages, on his bed, with the curtains closed. He hadn't managed to get everywhere with the liniment but he did the best he could.

Harry took a deep breath and eased himself out of bed. The truth was, he felt like curling up in a comfy chair by the common room fire and not moving all day; but he showered, dressed in his Quidditch uniform and went downstairs to breakfast. He wandered into the Great Hall hiding the discomfort in his shoulder as he forced his left arm to swing by his side naturally. On the surface his arm and shoulder looked fine but he could feel the muscles underneath screaming whenever he moved.

"Good morning, Harry," Hermione greeted him cheerfully. He waved half-heartedly in return. Hermione eyed him critically. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Hermione," he replied. "I'm great."

"You look pale," Hermione returned bluntly. Harry didn't answer her.

"Ron's coming with his family," Hermione volunteered after an uncomfortable silence. "So he's not here yet."

"The Weasleys are coming?"

"Oh yes," Hermione said briskly, "to watch Ginny. I don't expect they think you are playing at all."

"Probably not."

"Why are you playing, Harry?" Hermione asked him urgently. "You look dreadful and you are holding that arm all stiffly."

"I'm fine," Harry repeated through gritted teeth. "Madam Pomfrey is going to put a support bandage on before the game." He swung his left arm. It hurt like mad but Harry plastered a smile on his face.

"Why are you playing?" Hermione demanded again. She eyed him grimly. Harry debated lying to her again and then thought better of it. He sighed.

"Ginny has a chance to play for the Harpies management," Harry said. "They have Chaser openings. They are coming to watch Ginny play today. Watch her play _Chaser_, not Seeker."

"Oh," Hermione said. She paused. "I won't be able to talk you out of this, will I?" Harry shook his head. Hermione pursed her lips but did not say any more. Harry returned silently to his bacon and eggs and Hermione disappeared behind the _Prophet_. Ginny joined them a moment later. She looked preoccupied and absently poured herself a glass of milk and began to eat her cereal dry. She made a face and spat out the cornflakes while Harry tried to keep the smile off his face. Ginny smiled ruefully.

"Bit nervous," she said, grabbing the milk pitcher and pouring milk into her bowl. Harry patted her leg comfortingly and excused himself to go to the hospital wing. Hermione looked up from her newspaper.

"Harry-"

"Why don't you come with me, Hermione," Harry interrupted loudly. "You've finished breakfast."

"But-"

"We can talk on the way," Harry said cheerfully, grabbing her arm and hauling her out of her seat. Hermione smiled at him sweetly.

"All right, Harry," she said through gritted teeth, "if that's what you want."

"You all right, Hermione?" Ginny looked up from her breakfast with a puzzled expression.

"She's fine, she's fine!" Harry said cheerfully. "She's looking forward to seeing Ron! Well Madam Pomfrey's expecting me, see you later!" He leant down and gave Ginny a swift peck on the cheek and strode out of the Great Hall, dragging Hermione with him.

"What was that?" Hermione hissed at him, shaking his hand off her arm. She stopped dead, her hands on her hips.

"You were going to say something," Harry hissed back.

"Can you even move your arm?" Hermione demanded.

"Of course I can," Harry scoffed, swinging his arm to demonstrate. The muscles screamed at him and it was with great difficulty that he kept a smile plastered to his face.

"You," huffed Hermione, "are impossible. You're going to regret this."

"What if Ginny gets an offer?" Harry asked. "Am I going to regret it then?"

"You could do permanent damage!"

"Madam Pomfrey cleared it," Harry insisted stubbornly. Hermione sighed heavily. "It'll be fine, Hermione. You'll see." Hermione shook her head but trotted after him to the hospital wing.

She waited while the matron strapped Harry up and tutted under her breath about Quidditch players. His arm felt a little better with the support of the bandage, but Harry could tell that by the end of the day it was going to be on fire. Harry hoped the game was long enough to show off Ginny's skills but that he could end the game fairly early and catch the Snitch easily.

But first he had to convince Molly Weasley that he was well enough to play Quidditch.

***************

It couldn't have gone worse. Bill saw him first and indicated the bandages, which could be seen wound up his neck.

"Trying for a mummy impersonation there, Potter?" he called out as he and Fleur wandered up from the main gates while Harry and Hermione waited with Ginny, who was hovering on the front steps like an aimless butterfly.

"Should 'e be playing like zat?" Fleur demanded as she reached them. Harry elbowed Hermione and smiled sweetly at Fleur.

"Just a precaution," he said. "Lovely to see you, really glad you could come." Bill leaned close to Harry.

"Hurts like blazes, doesn't it?" Bill whispered. Harry smiled frozenly at him but didn't say anything.

When Ron turned up with George and his parents he seemed to be channelling Hermione. He grabbed Harry and hauled him aside.

"What in bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Ron hissed. "You're out of your mind, aren't you?"

"It's fine, Ron," Harry hissed back.

"I know you're a mental git," Ron continued, "but this is just bonkers, mate." Harry glared at him.

"Potty wee Potter," George sang, in a perfect imitation of Peeves. "Mum's about to let you have it."

Harry endured stoically as Mrs Weasley lectured him about being careful, the violent nature of Quidditch and foolish behaviour.

"Are you absolutely sure Madam Pomfrey meant for you to actually _play_ in the match?" Molly asked for the third time in as many minutes. "Your arm is all right?"

"She strapped it up," Harry explained, not for the first time. Molly pursed her lips and turned her attention to Ginny.

"Now, be careful, dear," she straightened her daughter's collar. "Are you warm enough? It's very cold out here."

"I'm fine," Ginny muttered mutinously, twisting away from her mother's fussing. Ron looked at Ginny carefully as she flapped a hand at her mother and scowled.

"Hey Ginny-"

"Time to go!" Harry interrupted loudly, grabbing Ginny's hand and pulling her down the steps. "We'll see you all after the game!" He ignored the sharp sting in his shoulder as he pulled Ginny hastily after him and waved cheerily with his right hand before striding briskly across the lawn.

"Ah, bye everybody!" Ginny called, giggling, before she trotted after Harry.

The Gryffindor changing room was a nervous pit of energy. Kyle Thorpe and Brent Robinson were staring at the door to the pitch, their broomsticks clutched in their hands. Coote and Peakes were pacing relentlessly on either side of the room and Dean was sitting on a bench bouncing his left knee up and down incessantly. He kept blowing bubbles with a large wad of Drooble's and Ginny was flitting between the toilet and her locker.

Only Harry sat perfectly still. If he sat perfectly still his arm didn't hurt one bit. He sat on a bench in the middle of the room and breathed slowly waiting for Madam Hooch to call them for the game.

"Do you think Malfoy even bothered to get a good team up?" Dean asked suddenly.

"I heard he put his girlfriend on the team," Kyle volunteered.

"That priss?" Ginny turned suddenly. "She's the sort who couldn't bear to break a nail!"

"So's Malfoy," snorted Dean. Ginny dissolved into a fit of laughter and Kyle and Brent grinned at her like madmen. Peaks and Coote glanced at them and resumed their pacing. Ginny sobered and looked seriously at the gathered players

"Look, we've trained for this. I know we probably aren't in the best form, we've got new players and our Seeker's just out of the hospital wing, but we are still better than Slytherin," Ginny said. Kyle cheered.

"Yeah!" said Brent.

"I thought you were the Captain?" Dean said leaning over to Harry. "How come she's giving the pep talk?" Harry looked at Dean for a moment.

"She told you about the Harpies?" he asked in a low voice. Dean nodded. Harry glanced at Ginny who was trimming the twigs on her broomstick. "This is her chance. Help her make it happen?"

"Of course," Dean said. He looked at Harry seriously. "She's bound to look brilliant next to me though. She always was the better Chaser."

"Listen, Dean-"

"Don't worry about it Harry," Dean cut him off.

"About yesterday," Harry persisted.

"I was in a foul mood is all," Dean sighed. "I thought Susan and I had something going but … she dumped me … for Goldstein." He grimaced.

"That's too bad," Harry said as he shifted a little in his seat. Pain shot through his shoulder and he winced.

"You're faking it, aren't you?" Dean asked him in a low voice, turning away from Ginny. "How much agony are you in anyway?"

"Oh, I'm fine, just a little twinge," Harry said quickly.

"You can't move without pain, can you?" Dean raised an eyebrow at him. "Maybe-" Harry shook his head fiercely.

"We'd have to forfeit-" Harry was cut off as Madam Hooch pushed open the door and told them it was time to play. Ginny froze; her broomstick in her hand. She stared at the door and gulped audibly. Harry fixed Dean with a meaningful stare, willing him to understand. Dean stood up swiftly.

"Come on Weasley," he cried. "Let's go get you on that pro team!"

"I think I still have to do a tryout or something," Ginny mumbled.

"Trial, tryout, trifecta!" Dean called as he dragged her out. "Let's go, let's go, let's go!" Ginny giggled as he caught her arm and turned back to look at Harry. He smiled at her and gave her the thumbs up, sighing thankfully when she was out of sight and he could move gingerly from his seat.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Jimmy Peakes asked him a moment later. "You don't look at all well."

"I'm … I just … don't let the Bludgers near me," he said. "I don't know if I can dodge them by myself."

"Should you be playing?" Ritchie Coote asked concernedly. Harry glanced around the changing room. Kyle and Brent were gone, having followed Ginny and Dean out.

"Madam Pomfrey has cleared me to play," he said carefully, trying not to wince as he bent to pick up his broom. He could feel them looking at him closely.

"Okay, Harry," Peakes said quietly. "We'll look out for you." The two Beaters picked up their brooms and bats resolutely and led the way out to the pitch.

Harry gritted his teeth as he shook hands with Malfoy and the movement sent shockwaves through his left shoulder even though he had shaken with his right hand. The weather was cold and blustery and Harry hoped that perhaps the frigid weather was enough to numb him, perhaps then he would have less pain. Malfoy fixed him with a predatory glare but Harry didn't have it in him to reciprocate. He mounted his broom and swooped around the pitch waiting for Madam Hooch to release the Quaffle.

Harry adjusted his seat on his broom and scanned the stands. He could see Professor McGonagall watching the Chasers intently as they went after the Quaffle. Ginny seemed to snatch it out of the air and went tearing down the pitch. Harry saw a couple of unfamiliar faces behind the Gryffindor goals. They were dressed in neatly-pressed robes the same colour as the Harpies uniforms. Badges he was too far away to see glinted on their chests.

Ginny scored the first goal of the match and Harry heard Malfoy swear as he flew past him. A massive cheer erupted from the Gryffindor stands and Harry watched as a group of red-heads in the visitor's box leapt to their feet. Ginny seemed to block all of that out and was concentrating on the Quaffle with single-minded determination. Harry hovered above the play determined to last as long as he could before catching the Snitch so that Ginny could showcase her abilities.

Ginny scored goal after goal as Dean fed her the Quaffle, easily keeping it from Slytherin's grasp and Harry began searching for the Snitch. A fifth year Hufflepuff called Peterson was giving a dreary commentary of the game and Harry tuned him out. At one point shortly after Ginny's fifth straight goal, Harry thought he saw the Snitch and swung around abruptly, pulling up shortly a moment later when he realised it was just the weak sunlight glinting off the badges of the Harpies officials before it vanished behind the clouds. A pervasive chill settled over the game once more.

Harry pulled up short just above the Gryffindor goals and attempted to mask a grimace. He was startled when he heard Malfoy right behind him.

"What's wrong with you, Potter?" The other Seeker sounded almost concerned.

"Nothing," Harry replied shortly, ascending a little, then turning to fly back out to the middle of the pitch. Malfoy followed him.

"Have the Seekers spotted the Snitch again?" Peterson droned. "It would be exciting if they did … they are moving very slowly oh look Ginny Weasley's got the Quaffle again this should be exciting watch this girl go."

"Your girlfriend's killing us," Malfoy commented nonchalantly.

"I heard yours was too scared to break a nail," Harry retorted but he lacked venom, he didn't have the energy to concentrate on annoying Malfoy. It was taking all his energy to stay upright on his broom.

"You look like Dragon dung, Potter," Malfoy said conversationally.

"Would you quit being so amicable?" Harry said irritably. "It disturbs me."

"It disturbs me that you look about ready to fall off that broom," Malfoy retorted. Harry turned to glare at him witheringly and suddenly Malfoy pulled hard on the handle of Harry's broomstick. Harry yelped in pain and Peterson applied his dreadfully dull monotone to the action between the Seekers.

"I think Malfoy is trying to push Potter off his broom," boomed the magical megaphone.

"I am trying to keep him out of the way of the stupid Bludger, you little turd," Malfoy muttered as he ducked the Bludger that whizzed right past where Harry had been sitting a moment before.

"Stay alert, Potter," Malfoy sneered before he zoomed down to berate his Chasers.

Harry took a deep breath and circled the pitch slowly, keeping his eye out for Bludgers and shouting encouragement to Kyle Thorpe in front of the Slytherin goals.

The score was 140-50 when Harry spotted the Snitch. He wove between four Chasers who were vying for the Quaffle and then dodged a Bludger only to lose sight of the winged golden ball. He gripped his broomstick tightly, willing himself not to fall off as he tried to regain his balance. Ginny tore off down the pitch with the Quaffle and Dean swung by where Harry was taking several deep breaths.

"Are you all right, Harry?" he asked in a low voice. However dull Peterson might be he was apparently very observant.

"I think Potter might have been injured in that last play," the Hufflepuff declared. "He looks like he's about to fall off his broom." Harry could feel every eye in the Stadium swivel to look at him. He gritted his teeth and flew over the Slytherin goals and hovered above the pitch. He groaned as Ginny, distracted for a moment, had her elbow clipped by a Bludger and dropped the Quaffle. Dean swooped under her and grabbed it, throwing it through the goals and past the very ineffective Slytherin Keeper.

Ginny was clutching her arm and one of the Slytherin's Chasers was bleeding from a cut lip, thanks to a very accurate shot by Coote.

"If you don't call a time out, I will," Malfoy said grimly a moment later as he flew up to him. "Go get a pain potion or something. You look about ready to vomit." Harry gestured rudely at him.

"Pain potions knock you out, you git," he hissed. "I'd fall off anyway!" Malfoy glared at him before signalling Madam Hooch.

Harry descended slowly and nearly tumbled off his broom as he touched down near the rest of his team on the edge of the pitch. A light drizzle was beginning to fall. Ginny was experimentally bending her injured elbow while Dean was gesturing urgently to Brent Robinson, the third Chaser. Peakes sidled up to Harry.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "You look like death."

"I'm fine," Harry said. "Malfoy called time out; let's make the most of it."

"How's your arm, Ginny?" Harry asked, striding over.

"Gonna have a massive bruise," Ginny commented absently as she rolled her sleeve up to inspect it. "I can't believe I let a Bludger hit me."

"You two," Harry barked at Coote and Peakes, "keep the Bludgers away from her. She can't score with a Bludger through her arm."

"How are we supposed to keep them away from both of you at the same time?" Coote protested.

"Forget about me," Harry said impatiently," I'll dodge-"

"But Harry, you said-"

"Just do it!" Harry snapped.

"Harry," Ginny began warningly. "If you are going to catch the Snitch, you need the Bludgers off you as well. Don't be an idiot."

"At the rate, I am going I'm never going to find the damn Snitch," Harry hissed. "The rain's starting up, it's getting darker and … just score, Ginny. We need a big lead."

"Are you all right?" she asked him then. She reached out and touched his bandaged arm. "Is it causing problems?" Harry shook his head impatiently.

"It's just a twinge, no problem," he said. "I've played in weather like this before; I can't guarantee finding the Snitch and you need to impress the people from the Harpies. They're behind the goal posts."

"I've seen them there," Ginny nodded. Madam Hooch blew her whistle.

"That's the minute whistle; we'd better get up there," Dean commented. Harry nodded and the rest of the team took off immediately, Ginny giving Harry a last lingering, worried look. He smiled at her in what he sincerely hoped was a reassuring manner. Harry was about to climb onto his broom and follow them into the air when a hand descended on his shoulder. He spun around to see George, Ron and Hermione.

"What's this about the Harpies?" Ron asked urgently.

"Are you in pain, Harry?" Hermione demanded.

"They've come to watch her play," was all Harry responded and made to get on his broom.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed. "We've been watching you. You look dreadful."

"Fine! All right, Hermione!" Harry shouted. "I am in a bloody lot of pain and I feel like my shoulder is on fire."

"So stop," George shrugged.

"If I pull out we forfeit," Harry shook his head. "There are people out there watching Ginny play so they can offer her a place on a professional team. I'm playing."

"Even if you die trying?" Ron asked. Harry rolled his eyes.

"He's turned into bloody Oliver Wood!" exclaimed George. Madam Hooch blew the thirty second whistle and Harry saw the Slytherin players ascend into the air.

"Is this worth it, Harry?" Hermione asked. "If you lose your grip … if you fall …" Harry grew tired of the questioning.

"I was bloody dead, Hermione," he snapped. "This is just Quidditch!" She stepped back as if stung. Harry swung his leg over his broom, aware he had only seconds to get back in the air. George put a hand on his arm.

"Hold still," George insisted. He took his wand out and was muttered a series of incantations Harry had never heard before. The pain vanished almost instantly. He looked up at George incredulously.

"What did you do?"

"Numbing charms," George answered. "Fred's invention. When you know you're about to test something that might blow up, it's your best friend. It only lasts about twenty minutes. Hurry up and catch the damn Snitch."

Harry, able to hold onto the broom almost normally, flew rapidly up above the play just in time. The rain was falling heavily now and Harry hoped he'd be able to spot the tiny, winged ball. Harry watched Ginny pass the Quaffle almost effortlessly across the pitch, swoop under the goals and score, again and again. He looked for the Snitch but it was nowhere to be seen.

Twenty minutes passed and then thirty. Harry's fingers were numb and George's charm work had worn off. Between the ache deep in his shoulder and his nerveless fingers Harry did not think he could stay on the broom much longer. Ginny made goal after goal and Kyle made save after save. The Gryffindor team was up 250-90 when Harry spotted the Snitch.

He dove for it, not caring where Malfoy was. He twisted and turned past the Chasers and swung wildly around the Quaffle in play. As he ducked both Bludgers, he dimly heard Peakes smashing at them with a barbaric roar and Peterson in the stands droning.

"This is the single most exciting thing to happen in this game." Peterson's monotone made watching paint dry sound more exciting. "Harry Potter has seen the Snitch and is flying to get it."

As Harry focused his eyes on the Golden Snitch, everything else faded from view. His shoulder and upper arm were screaming with pain and his wet fringe flapped wildly in his eyes. He swiped at it frantically with one hand and nearly lost his hold on his broom with the other. Tightening his grip he leant forward, pursuing the tiny, gold ball and ignoring the sickening tearing sensation in his left shoulder as he twisted around the goal posts and shot back across the pitch.

The Snitch hovered uncertainly in the middle of the playing field and Harry bore down on it, his left hand slippery with the rain and his right hand outstretched. The Snitch darted upwards and it was then Harry saw Malfoy. Harry grinned; he could make it to the Snitch before the other Seeker. Putting on a last burst of speed and ignoring the blinding pain in his shoulder, Harry shot upwards lunged forward and snatched the Snitch out of the air.

His nerveless fingers clutched at the handle of his broom but it slipped out of his grip and his forward momentum sent him hurtling as the Firebolt seemed to shoot backwards while Harry went spinning in the opposite direction. Suddenly, with a loud smacking sound and a horrible crunch, he slammed rib first into the handle of Draco Malfoy's broomstick. The broomstick lurched violently and Malfoy swore. Harry scrabbled to hold onto the broomstick as Malfoy grunted with the effort of holding the broom steady. It was spinning in circles, creating a downward spiral. They were losing altitude fast and Malfoy reached out and grabbed hold of Harry's robes.

"Hang on, Potter!" yelled Malfoy, pulling up and trying to slow their descent. He was partially successful and they landed heavily, but mostly upright, at the centre of the pitch. Harry tumbled off and fell to the earth in a muddy heap, wheezing and cursing.

"You kiss the Weaslette with that mouth, Potter?" smirked Malfoy. Harry glared at him, holding his ribs.

"I think Potter caught the Snitch but it's hard to tell because he fell off after that," Peterson's voice droned. "Maybe if Malfoy caught him then technically Malfoy caught the Snitch I think we will need Madam Hooch to tell us who the victor is here."

"Honestly Peterson," McGonagall's voice thundered. "Potter caught the Snitch first! I don't care what happened to him after that! Gryffindor wins!" The stands erupted in cheers and Harry noticed the players begin to land on the pitch and run towards where he and Malfoy sat, filthy and freezing in the mud.

"Thanks, Malfoy," Harry said quietly. Malfoy held out his right hand. Harry looked at it for a moment; he pocketed the Snitch and shook the other Captain's hand.

"Good game," Malfoy said. He turned and picked up his broom and then nodded at Harry briefly before walking off the pitch in the direction of the Slytherin changing room. Harry watched him go.

Draco Malfoy had seemed almost human and … decent.

Harry was brought back to reality suddenly when he allowed Dean to haul him to his feet.

"Harry, we did it!" Dean cried jubilantly. "Four hundred and ten to ninety …" Harry didn't hear the rest of what Dean was saying because he suddenly felt very faint and white spots began to dance before his eyes. He found it difficult to breathe and it was only the burning sensation in his left shoulder that kept him conscious. Letting out a strangled yelp, Harry sank to the ground, his left arm hanging uselessly by his side and his right hand pressed to the spot on his ribs where he'd hit the handle of Malfoy's broom.

"Don't … don't do that … you git," Harry breathed.

Ginny reached him next, her long hair flying behind her as she ran towards him. She'd thrown her broom aside as soon as she dismounted and came skidding to stop beside him, spraying mud all over him.

"Harry!" she cried, dropping to her knees. "Are you all right?" Harry looked up at her.

"I think … I think I cracked a rib," he wheezed, then coughed.

"You're awfully pale," Ginny said worriedly. "How's your shoulder? You're shivering."

"Do you think … will they like you?" Harry asked. "The Harpies?"

"Who cares?" Ginny cried, feeling his forehead the way her mother did whenever she checked one of her children for a fever. Harry closed his eyes only to open them a moment later.

"You're bloody mental!" Ron muttered as he dropped to his knees on Harry's left side. His family was crowding around behind him. "I thought you were a goner, going for that Snitch! Did you know you were actually swaying in the breeze at one point? I'm surprised you didn't fall off earlier, you great, bloody git!"

"Ronald! Language!" Molly reprimanded him. She peered at Harry concernedly. "You do look a bit pale, dear. Can you stand?" Harry shook his head ruefully.

"I can walk but I don't think I can get up," he wheezed before coughing painfully. "Ribs."

"That's all right, Harry," said George cheerfully. "We'll set you on your feet and then you can go to the party and be hailed as man of the hour … again." He crouched down and picked up Harry's limp left arm and attempted to drape it over his shoulder. Harry bit back a yelp and groaned. His shoulder was agony and he closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply, which proved completely impossible with cracked ribs. He began to hyperventilate.

"Sweet Merlin," breathed Molly. Harry opened his eyes and looked over at George whose hands were covered in blood.

"Who's bleeding?" Harry asked. His own voice sounded distant. He felt Ron tear frantically at the sleeve of his scarlet Quidditch robes.

"You are!" Ron cried. "You're a mess." Harry didn't think to protest when Ron scooped him up and cradled him in his arms.

"Bloody hurts," Harry grunted, closing his eyes.

"Probably ripped it open, you great prat," Ron grumbled as he strode towards the changing room.

"I can walk," Harry said half heartedly. Ron grunted and shouldered the door to the changing room open. Harry heard the rest of the family trooping in as Ron set him carefully on the bench in the middle of the room.

"Did someone get Madam Pomfrey?" Ron asked as he began to peel back Harry's Quidditch robes.

"Bill went," Ginny said softly. Harry opened his eyes.

"When do you think you'll hear?" he asked, wincing as Ron pulled off the protective gear from his left arm.

"Hear what?" Molly asked as she hovered over them like an overanxious mother hen.

"The Harpies were at the game today," Ron said as he dropped Harry's gloves and arm guards on the floor. "They were here to watch Ginny, which is why our hero here insisted on playing." Ron yanked on the sleeve of Harry's robe, pulling it off to expose the spreading crimson stain on the white bandages. Harry yelped.

"Harry!" Ginny cried, her hands flying to her mouth.

"You bloody, noble git," muttered Ron, shaking his head. Harry said nothing. Ginny moved over and elbowed Ron out of the way. She knelt beside him and reached out to caress his cheek.

"I knew I shouldn't have let you play," she whispered.

"_I'm_ the Captain," Harry whispered back.

"Idiot," Ginny said, running her hands through his sodden hair, stroking it back from his forehead.

"It was worth it," Harry said softly, ignoring the fact that the Weasleys were all standing around. "You played brilliantly. There's no way they won't take you." Ginny said nothing, she just ran her hands through his hair and Harry leaned forward to rest his head oh her shoulder, sighing heavily.

It was only a moment before Madam Pomfrey came bustling in. She took one look at Harry, pursed her lips in a very unpleased manner and ordered everybody out.

"Yes, you too, Miss Weasley," she said briskly as she waved her wand in complicated patterns over Harry's ribs. "Five cracked ribs, Mr Potter?" She raised an eyebrow at him as the door swung shut on Ginny. Harry closed his eyes as Madam Pomfrey transfigured the bench into a bed she was able to work on and Harry lay back so she could heal his ribs.

The matron checked him over thoroughly before she began to remove the bandages from his torn and bloodied left side. Harry hissed as the air hit the raw skin and the torn, jagged edges of reopened scar tissue. He was glad Ginny had gone- he didn't want to look at the scars and he didn't want her to see them at all. He felt completely irrational; it wasn't as though he didn't have any scars already.

Harry couldn't hold back the short, bitter laugh that turned into a hiss as Madam Pomfrey cleansed and healed the reopened wound on his shoulder. She worked steadily down his arm, muttering under her breath as she repaired the damage caused by his reckless flying.

"You are not to get on a broom again until I say so," she said, bandaging his neck, shoulder and arm with a series of dressings that covered the worst of his injuries. "And don't be expecting anything before Christmas!"

Harry nodded meekly. He knew he'd probably be irritated with that rule well before Christmas, but he had little desire at that moment to do anything but rest. He closed his eyes and let sleep wash over him as the matron worked steadily on his injuries.


	37. Chapter 37

**37. Misunderstanding**

Winter set in with a new vigour after that first game of the Quidditch season. The November days grew shorter and darker, the castle providing protection from the howling winds, if not the bitter cold. Hermione started keeping her ink bottles on the mantelpiece in the common room to stop them freezing and Neville moved half the greenhouse into the seventh year boys' dormitory where he could keep an eye on the plants. Madam Pomfrey was amazed that Harry hadn't done more damage to his injuries. She kept Harry in the hospital wing for only a day after his Quidditch mishap before she said he was cluttering up her hospital wing, lectured him for half an hour and sent him on his way saying he was very lucky indeed.

Harry and Draco Malfoy maintained an uneasy truce following the Quidditch match, turning in a completed Potions assignment that garnered them an 'O'. Harry wondered if Malfoy's overly-friendly actions during the match had been to salvage his Potions grade. For some reason, even though the project was over, neither Harry nor Malfoy attempted to move to sit next to other people during the class.

One afternoon in late November, Harry was lounging on the hearthrug in the Gryffindor common room while Hermione tried in vain to impress upon him the merits of extra study for his NEWT year. Ginny was down at the Quidditch pitch having taken over the training the group of first and second years because Harry wasn't allowed to fly.

"Sometimes I don't know why you bothered to come back if you are not going to take things seriously!"

"Hermione," Harry said patiently as he flicked through one of his text books, idly looking for references to use in a Muggle Studies essay, "I take a lot of things very seriously. Just because they are not the things you would take seriously doesn't mean I don't."

"I didn't say you don't take anything seriously," Hermione protested. "I just think you could exert just a little more effort on your studies-"

"Stop picking on me just because you miss Ron," Harry grumbled.

"Well I didn't send him to Egypt with Bill," Hermione muttered, turning the pages in her own text book viciously.

"Neither did I!" Harry protested. "He went all by himself!" Hermione huffed and fell silent.

In an effort to figure out how to track down some of the missing parents Seamus and Dean had listed, Harry had asked Arthur where to start.

"I don't really know, Harry," Arthur said thoughtfully as they sat down to eat one evening with Bill and Fleur at the Burrow. "I guess if you know where they went it'd be easier but then you wouldn't be looking would you?" Harry smiled wryly.

"This one kid … think he's a Ravenclaw, he has this little tin," Harry said. "No one knows if it really came from his dad but he reckons it does."

"What tin is this?" Bill asked.

"Probably a tobacco tin," Ron mumbled through a mouthful of potatoes before swallowing. "I talked to Everard Fingleman and it's got a lock of hair in it. He said it's a bit odd because his dad doesn't smoke. But he's convinced it came from his dad."

"How did it get to this … Everard, was it?" George inquired.

"Owl post," answered Harry, "just turned up one day apparently."

"Maybe he's with someone else who does smoke?" George shrugged. "Who's hair?"

"Dunno," answered Ron, "says it looks like his dad's but his mum says he's daft because she reckons there's no way his dad got to Egypt."

"Egypt?" Bill looked up suddenly. Ron nodded, spearing more meat from the platter in the middle of the table.

"This tin, it's got funny sort of writing on it," Harry explained, "and his mum says it's Egyptian."

"I could come up to Hogwarts and have a look at this tin," Bill said, "might be able to find something out. It stands to reason, if they've been living in hiding they may not realise it's safe to come back. They may even be having difficulty getting home"

Bill had come to Hogwarts and spoken to Everard. Within days he'd made plans to go to Egypt to try and find out if any of Britain's missing wizarding folk were still living there in hiding. He left for Egypt with Ron soon afterwards. Percy had promised to look in on George, who was spending half his time inventing crazy joke products that would never sell and the other half pining over Angelina.

"I wrote her a poem," George confessed to Harry the previous weekend while Harry had been at the Burrow for dinner after visiting Teddy. "It was rubbish."

"Just talk to her," Harry shrugged. George looked at him as if he were mad.

"Harry dear," Molly had interrupted, "are you quite recovered from playing that silly game while still injured?" She peered at him as she set a plate heaped with roast beef and vegetables, dripping with gravy, in front of him.

"I'm fine," Harry replied. Molly felt his forehead as though he were a small, sick child and harrumphed emphatically.

"I still don't now what Ginevra was thinking, letting you play," she said, forcefully placing a pitcher of pumpkin juice on the table. "She blames herself, of course. As well she should, I would think. You could have really hurt yourself. You might have permanently damaged something! And for what, a silly game of Quidditch?" Colour began to rise in Molly's cheeks, indicating her extreme displeasure.

"It wasn't for just a game, Mum," George interjected. "She was playing for a chance with the _Harpies_."

"It's not worth Harry's health, it's not even something she _needs_ to do!" Molly protested, stabbing a finger towards George before turning again to Harry. "Madam Pomfrey said you were lucky not to have caused a real problem. She's still not sure how you managed to play. The pain alone should have stopped you. It's why she never offers numbing charms, although I understand they are used extensively in the League. There's more than one player who's pushed themself beyond the point of reasonable repair by masking the pain. The matron swears she didn't give you any sort of pain numbing charm to help you through and Merlin knows I asked her until I was blue in the face!" Molly took a deep breath and sighed as she sat in her chair and Harry shared a guilty look with George.

"It's very worrisome to get called to Hogwarts in the middle of the night because one of your children is injured," Arthur added as he sat down. "This looks wonderful, Molly dear!"

"But I'm not-"

"As good as," Molly said, thrusting the basket of bread rolls under his nose and looking at him pointedly. "Professor McGonagall called us straightaway when that nasty creature attacked you. She knew you'd need family with you."

"I would have been fine," Harry muttered. "Ginny-"

"Could not have coped alone, Harry," Arthur interrupted gravely. "She was very upset when we arrived. And no wonder, so much blood …"

"She was very vulnerable," Molly mused as she took a sip of her drink. "I've not seen her so … so … it was as if something had happened; made her … more sensitive to your distress." Molly looked at Harry thoughtfully over the rim of her goblet and Harry swallowed heavily.

"You know she's always felt keenly about the pain of others, Molly," Arthur said patting her hand and spearing a potato with his fork. "This is wonderful gravy, dearest." Harry hastily tucked into his own meal, murmuring compliments along with Arthur and George.

Harry sighed as he returned from his reverie, wondering if Molly knew the cause of Ginny's heightened concern that night. He stared at the cover of the Muggle Studies text book. It was an ugly dark green and the title '_Muggles and their Machines_' was inscribed in gold in flowing script. Life seemed to be going on, unruffled and smooth but he could feel the undercurrents flowing underneath it all. Percy was falsely cheerful but it was obvious he missed Penelope terribly and was suffering from loneliness. George laughed as he reported Stella had set Percy up with a witch but she'd been all lipstick and high heels. Not Percy's type at all.

Ron seemed unsettled at the shop with George, which was why he'd jumped at the chance to go to Egypt with Bill. Harry suspected Ron was just having a hard time adjusting to being apart from Hermione. Ron loved using Wheezes to prank Harry whenever he stopped by the shop in Diagon Alley and was always willing to show him the new inventions. It was entirely possible Ron just needed to get away from George's terrible poetry. Fleur had moved into the Burrow to keep Mrs Weasley company while they were gone.

_She spends all day just sitting_, Arthur had written in a letter to Ginny, asking her to write to her mother more often. _She misses her children and I'm so busy trying to help at the Ministry. Please, don't forget your mother._ For her part, Ginny made time to write to her mother almost every day but Harry often watched her struggle to find things to say. Yesterday had been one of those days.

"I just don't think she wants to hear about Quidditch training," Ginny said, throwing her quill down in frustration. She was still waiting to hear from the Harpies and had thrown herself relentlessly into training, spending hours out on the pitch with anyone who'd go down there with her to throw Quaffles back and forth. Harry spent some afternoons sitting in the stands just watching her fly.

"She doesn't want her only daughter to be a Quidditch player," Ginny continued. "She absolutely let me have it after the game the other day. '_How could you, Ginevra! Fancy putting Harry at risk for some silly notion of a Quidditch career!_' It took all of us to convince her it was your fault! Honestly, the woman thinks you can do no wrong!"

"What does she want you to do?" Harry asked as he doodled in the columns of his notes. Ginny sighed heavily and put her elbows on the table, resting her chin in her hands.

"Well, she's never really been against a career," she said. "It's not that exactly. She's always been very supportive of a witch having a career, being able to support herself. I think it's just … it's because of you."

"Me?" Harry asked indignantly. "What did I do?"

"Nothing bad," Ginny reached out and smoothed his left shoulder. Harry flinched. It didn't hurt but he felt very uncomfortable about her touching it. What if she noticed the jagged scars left from the Quintaped and the ugly tear in the new skin? He didn't see Ginny frown at him but he knew she was.

"Does she think I don't want you to have a career?" Harry asked. He kept his eyes on his doodling.

"No," sighed Ginny, "not exactly. It's more that she thinks you deserve some kind of sainted homemaker to provide you with pipe and slippers." Harry snorted.

"What on earth would I do with a pipe and slippers?"

"She just wants the best for you like she does for all of us," Ginny smirked. "You're lucky she thinks I'm the best thing for you." Harry looked up at her and smiled.

"She's not wrong there," he whispered. Ginny leaned in to give him a kiss. Harry sighed against her mouth and wound one hand into her fiery hair. She reciprocated, a small, soft hand coming up to tangle in the locks of hair at his collar before sliding round to the side of his neck and down.

Harry felt her fingertips glide over the raised angry scar on his neck and pulled away. He studied the wood grain on the table, not looking at Ginny. He knew she was looking sadly at him because she did that every time he pulled away from her embrace when she got to close to the scars from the Quintaped.

It was pathetic, Harry decided. He had countless other scars and she had seen them all, traced every single one of them with her fingers and kissed the length of them, but she hadn't seen these ones. He was grateful for winter and the excuse it gave him to wear long sleeves, scarves and gloves.

"Harry," Ginny said softly. Harry didn't want to look at her; answer her questions. He fiddled restlessly with his quill.

"I'll write to your mum tonight, if you like," he said, sliding her parchment across the table. He reached for the ink bottle, his left arm stretching out in front of Ginny and the shirt sleeve riding up a little. Harry closed his fingers around the ink bottle just as she closed her fingers around his wrist. Harry stilled, staring at her fingers clutched around his bare wrist.

He watched mesmerised as Ginny used her other hand to pry the ink bottle from his fingers and spread his hand out to trace the scars that ran across the back of his hand and around onto his palm. He shivered at her touch.

"Does Madam Pomfrey think they'll fade?" Ginny asked him quietly.

"Yeah," Harry answered in a husky voice. "It'll take longer since I ripped so many of them open." Ginny's fingers had moved to trace the scars that nearly encircled his wrist. Her fingers danced over his pulse making his heart beat faster.

"She gave you an ointment to use?" Ginny persisted as her nimble fingers deftly undid the button on the cuff of his shirt. Harry squirmed uncomfortably. They were in the middle of the common room and not only was she touching the scars he hid so carefully from her but she was exposing them for the entire room to see. Harry pulled his arm away, tucking it into his side and looking furtively around the common room to see if anyone had noticed.

"She gave me ointment, yes," he said, straightening the parchment with the beginning of Molly's letter.

"Any trouble putting it on?" Ginny asked lightly, handing him the ink bottle. Harry shook his head and bent over the letter, determinedly writing an amusing anecdote about Dora chasing a Bowtruckle behind Hagrid's hut.

The truth was Harry wasn't having a great deal of success with the ointment on his shoulder but asking for help meant showing it to someone and Harry felt strangely reluctant to expose the ugly red, raised marks that now adorned his arm and shoulder. He found himself staring into the fire, the Muggle Studies text book lay forgotten on the hearth rug.

A commotion at the portrait hole drew his attention. It was Gerald and Gilbert Chumley – arguing loudly.

"I think it's just beastly of you!" Gilbert shouted, tears in his eyes.

"I'm just stating reasonable fact," Gerald replied. "If we are to move into a regular neighbourhood then it follows that we should become regular people."

"I don't want to go home to some stupid flat," Gilbert screeched. "I want to go home to our little house with all our things and all _Dad's _things …"

"It's magical," Gerald said flatly. "Do you really expect mother to remain there?"

"She doesn't want to leave, either!" Gilbert cried. "This is going to be the worst Christmas ever!"

"Come now, Gilbert," Gerald said in an annoying paternal tone. "Nothing will be achieved with tears. I am sure it will not be as bad as you think. I believe we will enjoy returning to our normal roots – our maternal heritage. It has been a lark experiencing father's world and now we can return to the real world."

"I hate you!" Gilbert screamed before tearing up the stairs and banging the dormitory door closed with a resounding crash.

Gerald sighed and took a cursory look at the parchment in his hands before discarding it in a nearby rubbish bin and exiting the common room. Harry leapt to his feet and fished the parchment out of the bin.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed. "Should you be reading that?" Harry shrugged and spread the crumpled parchment out on a nearby table.

_My Darling Boys,_

_I wanted to write and let you know what has been going on here at home while you have been away at school. I hope you are both well and minding your manners the way I taught you. It's strange not having you here but I know you are in the best place and learning all the things your father wished to teach you._

_There has been no word on your father's whereabouts. Aunt Gloria has done all she can but says the Ministry place is just too confused at the moment and they simply don't know where your father is or when he was last seen. Gilbert, honey, I know you wanted to see him again but I just don't know what to tell you. I'm not giving up but there is little I can do. He would have contacted us by now if he was able. A part of me will always hope but maybe we have to move on, my dears?_

_And now I come to the sad news of this letter. I'm packing up this little house. It is in your father's name and his Galleons paid for it. The goblins aren't getting paid and haven't since your father vanished. They need to settle the account. I cannot pay, I have barely enough for your tuition and food with the money I make at the café in the village and even they have let me go because business is not as brisk in the winter. I will probably be able to pick that up again in the spring, they say._

_I've found us a dear little flat. It's not so much in the village as in town but that will be a new excitement all its own, won't it boys? It's not magical, of course, but we'll do our best in with the Muggles, 'eh? I'm sure I can show you the ropes; it's not at all hard. I can't wait to see you for Christmas. I just know you're going to love living in the flat. It's got a little bedroom for you and a wonderful view on the days the factory isn't going._

_I love you, I'm counting down the days until Christmas holidays, Love, Mum._

"Oh, that's terrible," Hermione cried.

"Thought we shouldn't be reading it?" Harry smirked at her. Hermione merely sniffed and turned away.

"It's awful," Hermione muttered, beginning to pace. "She's lost her husband and now her home and her job. How will she keep sending the boys here? Gerald is still so resistant but he's actually a very talented wizard, Harry. I've seen him practicing some of his Transfiguration homework. He's probably gifted in that area."

"I hope Bill has some luck in Egypt," Harry said, folding the parchment carefully. "We've got to do something. It's frustrating just sitting around, waiting."

"You're not just sitting around," Hermione said patiently. "I know how much effort you've been putting into fixing up Grimmauld Place. How is it all going?"

"You've no idea how odd it is to see Kreacher excited," Harry laughed. He's been working like a demon. I keep telling him to slow down but …"

"I hope he's not overworked, Harry." Hermione eyed him disapprovingly. Harry rolled his eyes.

"He's not, Hermione," he said patiently. "He's enjoying the work and he's talking about having the children there to brighten the place up. I think Teddy's softened him up."

"Is Andromeda coping without him there so much?" Hermione sank down onto the couch in front of the fireplace. Harry joined her, stretching his feet out towards the warmth.

"I think she is," he replied. "She's stronger now than she was right … after and Teddy's getting older. I think she takes him over to see Molly a fair bit. They probably spoil him to pieces. I'm glad he doesn't have to stay in a Children's Home though. I know that sounds dreadful, I mean, I plan to start one! It's just … I'm glad he's got family who love him."

"It doesn't sound bad," Hermione said softly. "No one wants children in a cold, impersonal orphanage or something." Harry sighed heavily.

"I don't want Grimmauld Place to be like that," he said distantly. "How do you make it like a home instead of like … like …"

"An institution?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "What do I know about it?"

"I think the most important thing is love, Harry," Hermione said. She laid her head on Harry's shoulder. "I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"Well, I only have to convince Kreacher to get rid of Mrs Black in the entrance and find someone to run it," Harry said softly. "I don't think Kreacher's quite the one for the job." Hermione snorted and Harry laughed. They sat in silence for a moment, the hum of the common room growing louder as it filled with students coming inside from the lengthening shadows.

"I miss Ron," Hermione sighed suddenly. Harry looked down at her. She was staring into the fire and she looked small and sad.

"He'll be back soon," Harry said, slipping an arm around her shoulders. "He hasn't gone for long."

"No, it's not that he's in Egypt," Hermione shook her head. "It's that he's not here and I can't see him every day."

"Yeah," said Harry heavily. "I know what you mean."

"You have Ginny," was all Hermione said.

"It's not the same," Harry replied. "And anyway, I didn't have her all last year. I know what you mean."

"Then why are you shutting her out?" Hermione asked, her head still on his shoulder. Harry stiffened. He forced himself to relax.

"I don't know what you mean," he said casually.

"How's your shoulder?" Hermione asked. Harry was glad she was still looking into the fire and he fixed his eyes there as well.

"It's fine," Harry replied. Hermione snorted.

"Any problem with the ointment?"

"No."

"Why won't you show anyone?" Hermione lifted her head and he could feel her gaze on him.

"Well I don't normally go around taking my shirt off," Harry attempted a laugh, "especially not in winter."

"You cover your hand and your neck," Hermione observed.

"Yeah, well, maybe I'm sick of people looking at my scars," Harry muttered.

"No one notices them, Harry," Hermione said, "least of all Ginny."

"You've really lost your mind," Harry grumbled.

"You're pushing her away," Hermione said forcefully. Harry opened his mouth but Hermione cut him off. "Don't think she hasn't noticed."

"What has she said?" Harry forced himself to sound casual.

"She hasn't _said _anything," Hermione scoffed. "I can _see_ it."

Harry said nothing, staring into the fire absently. What Hermione said was true. It had been all over school that he'd been attacked by Hagrid's Quintaped and all the first and second years who'd stopped staring at him had taken to staring at him again. Harry couldn't walk through the corridors, eat a meal or sit in the library without feeling as if half the school was watching him. He felt like everyone was peering at him, wanting to find the evidence of his encounter. There was nothing cool or remotely interesting about the bite scars on his arm. Harry took to wishing people would stare at his forehead and shied away from everyone, usually studying in the common room and often retreating to his dormitory.

"I know I'm not exactly into hanging out with everyone right now," Harry admitted.

"I don't mean hanging out with everyone," Hermione said gently. "I mean Ginny."

"I don't know what you mean," Harry protested. "I hang out with Ginny all the time." Hermione shook her head slowly.

"I saw how you two were that week in the hospital wing," she said softly. "You were closer than you've ever been."

Harry looked away from Hermione's penetrating gaze. It was true enough. Harry had felt overwhelmed by the feelings he experienced when he had woken up in the hospital wing that first morning to find Ginny sitting next to his bed. She was reading the newspaper and eating her breakfast, a piece of toast in one hand and her wand stuck behind her ear the way Luna's often was. Harry had stared at her for a while, watching as she turned the page and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Ginny looked up and their gazes locked. She smiled shyly and flushed a little as if she suddenly remembered the intimacy they had shared the night before.

They _had_ been closer since that night, until Harry had left the hospital wing the second time and suddenly become conscious of his scars.

"I know something changed," Hermione said, breaking into his thoughts. "I could see it in the way you looked at her."

"We …" Harry trailed off, not knowing what to say, how to describe it.

"I know," Hermione smiled. She reached across and took his left hand in hers. "But now, since the game …" Harry held perfectly still as Hermione traced the scars on his hand.

"We haven't since … I just …"

"Let her in, Harry," Hermione said softly. "The scars don't matter."

"I know, I just … I have a lot of scars," said Harry quietly, turning his hand over in Hermione's and staring at the marks dotting his palm. "I just keep collecting them. One day it's going to be too many."

"Too many for what?" Hermione asked. "You can't think Ginny cares about how you look?"

"No," Harry sighed, "that's not what I meant." He stood up and began pacing in front of the fire.

"What is it Harry?" Hermione watched him from her seat on the couch.

"I don't want anyone to see them," Harry said, running a hand haphazardly through his hair. "What if one day … it's another reminder that I'm reckless? What if one day it's too many scars, too many injuries?"

"Ginny really loves you," Hermione said. She smiled cheekily. "She knows you collect scars." Harry laughed weakly.

"I don't really open up well to people," Harry said slowly. Hermione snorted. "It means opening up, Hermione." Harry turned to her, pleading; he wasn't sure what he was pleading for. Hermione stood up and grabbed both his hands in hers.

"Harry," she said, "this is Ginny. Opening up to her is … she's who you always open up to. If you can't open up to Ginny …"

"She's my world, Hermione," Harry said.

"I know," Hermione said, squeezing his hands in hers. "That's why you have to let her in. Haven't you already given her everything?" Harry nodded.

"I gave her my heart," he whispered.

"She gave you hers," Hermione said. "She gave you _everything_. Don't take that away from her. Nobody loves you like Ginny. You can share anything with her; even these scars. There will _never _be too many scars for Ginny."

"There's so many, they're so …" Harry trailed off, pacing nervously. "Molly said she blamed herself after the game."

"She does," Hermione nodded. "She knows you played that game for her. I think that's why she's training so much. If she gets an opportunity with the Harpies and doesn't make it, she'll feel like she let you down."

"It was _my _decision, Hermione," Harry said urgently. He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at the ends.

"She knows that," Hermione said patiently, "but she also knows you did it for her."

"But-"

"She won't care," Hermione said urgently. "Don't you dare say they'll matter to her. She won't care if you're reckless, it won't matter what they look like. She only wants you back. Can't you see her? The way she looks when you pull away?" Harry nodded. He saw the sadness – before Ginny could hide it – when he turned away from her touch, when he pulled away from a kiss.

He hadn't touched her beyond holding her hand and kissing her briefly since he'd left the hospital wing after the game. He would twist away whenever she went to his left side and make excuses not to cuddle. Harry wanted to touch her. He wanted to stroke her face and run his hands through her hair while she kissed him. He remembered the feel of her hands splayed across his chest and around his waist as he explored her body. She'd given it to him freely and he'd offered his own. She wanted him, scars and knobbly knees notwithstanding.

Harry remembered how she'd kissed and caressed him. The closeness he felt the next day after they had shared such physically intimate moments was fading and he missed it. He missed her. If she felt half the way he did … Harry dropped back onto the couch with a groan. Hermione sank down onto the couch next to him and sighed heavily. She curled her legs up under herself and put her head on his shoulder.

"It'll all work out, Harry," she said. "You'll see. Just talk to her." Harry made a non-committal noise in his throat and let his head fall back on the couch. He searched desperately to change the topic of conversation. His mind drifted to Hallowe'en and how he and Ginny had darted behind the portrait of the man with sandwiches, Ginny giggling madly as he kissed her palm theatrically and quoted some of the Muggle poetry they'd been studying.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"

"You could, I guess …"

"You're firey enough," Harry whispered as he pulled her close and kissed her. Ginny laughed breathlessly and tugged him up the stairs. As they spilled through into the first room Harry watched as the light seemed to spill magically from what had to be an enchanted chandelier.

"I wonder what happened to her?" Ginny asked. Harry looked down. She was standing in front of the picture of Glenda Gryffindor. "It's a lovely necklace; do you think it was special?"

"I've got that necklace," Harry blurted. "I found it in here the other day."

"Really?" Ginny stared at him. Harry drew his brows together in confusion.

"Well I did have it," he said, "and then … I was in the hospital wing so …"

"Madam Pomfrey will know where it is," Ginny said.

Staring into the common room fire nearly a month later Harry realised he'd forgotten all about it again. He needed to ask Madam Pomfrey about it. He wondered idly if it had anything to do with the wooden panels in the room. In his experience, even seemingly random objects and ideas were connected somehow. He started thinking about the wooden panels. There was something there, but what?

"I need to pin Neville down and we need to go figure out that wooden panel," he said suddenly. Hermione didn't answer him. She was staring into the fire. "Hermione?"

"I miss him," Hermione said tearfully. Harry sighed and slid his arms around her and held her. He knew who she meant.

"Me too," he whispered.

And that was how Brogan McLaggen found them a few minutes later as the Gryffindors came trickling in to get ready for tea.

"This what you get up to when Weasley's not here?" he sneered, situating himself just behind their heads. Harry jumped. Brogan continued. "Well I wouldn't mind a crack at her myself, so … thanks." He straightened up and swaggered in the direction of the boys' dormitories.

"Don't you touch her," Harry growled. Harry could feel the other Gryffindors in the room freeze and out of the corner of his eye he dimly noticed Seamus and Neville move towards them.

"Really, you'd think a little toerag like you would have learned your lesson," Seamus said. A crowd of students gathered to watch, shifting restlessly as more students trickled in through the portrait hole.

Hermione stood on the hearthrug, flustered. Harry glanced at her.

"Don't you touch me," Brogan screeched. "I won't stand for this again!"

"What are you going to do?" Seamus smirked.

"Well maybe I'll start by telling Weasley exactly what I saw," Brogan said.

"Which is?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"You are always hanging out with her," Brogan said. "Spent more time with her than Weasley lately and now I come in and find you two smooching."

"We weren't smooching!" Harry exclaimed incredulously.

"Looked like it to me," Brogan said smugly.

"I … you …" Harry trailed off, at a loss for words.

"Harry and Hermione have been friends for years," Neville said quietly. "And if you don't want points taken again I suggest you stop spreading nasty, vicious, little rumours."

"They were hugging!" Brogan claimed loudly. "Everyone saw that!" He smirked at Harry triumphantly. Harry glared at him in return.

"Oh, for goodness sake, it wasn't the first time," Hermione huffed mutinously. "Anyone would think it's suddenly against the law to hug a friend." She stomped her way to the portrait hole, the crowd of students parted like a wave to let her out and as he turned to watch her go, Harry saw the flash of Ginny's long, red ponytail as she disappeared up the girls' dormitory stairs.

The castle seemed to be buzzing when Harry went down to eat. Hermione had not come back to the common room and Ginny had not come down from her dormitory. Neville had eventually dragged Harry down to the Great Hall to eat and he could feel more than one set of eyes on him as they made their way to the Gryffindor table. Hermione was there, her head buried in a massive, dusty book as she absently speared food from a plate near her elbow.

"Hey, Hermione," Neville said quietly as he sat down opposite her. He glanced meaningfully at Harry who sighed and sank down into the seat next to him.

"Hi Neville … Harry," Hermione said, looking up briefly from her book before burying herself within its pages once more. The whispers in the Great Hall seemed to seep into Harry's head, twisting and turning and making him feel off-kilter, as if he was missing something.

"You know what?" Seamus said suddenly, reaching for a leg of chicken, "If Ron were here he'd stand up and tell everyone to shut it."

"And then he'd get detention for three days," Dean added from his seat next to Seamus, "for causing a ruckus."

"Because he would have gone to beat up Malfoy when he made a sarcastic comment," Neville added, pushing a plate of roast beef under Harry's nose. Seamus and Dean snorted and Harry managed a small smile as he speared a piece of meat with his fork.

"If Ron was _here_ we wouldn't have this issue," Hermione interjected flatly, her nose still in her book.

"We'd still have the issue of a foul, loathsome, evil, little cockroach like Brogan," Harry said quietly. "How did we never notice him before?"

"He grew up over the last year," a slight, dark haired girl with a slight Irish lilt volunteered from Harry's left. She blushed as they all turned to look at her.

"Really?" asked Seamus incredulously. "He seems like a right foul git!"

"Oh, I don't mean emotionally," the girl exclaimed, giggling. "He's very stunted emotionally, but he used to be um, sort of skinny and weedy and now he's sort of big and … tough. He grew." Hermione was staring at the girl over the top of her book.

"He likes to throw this new found weight around?" Harry asked her. The girl nodded.

"He thinks now that Cormac's gone to work in Russia he's the kingpin," she replied.

"The what?" Seamus raised his eyebrow.

"What makes him think Cormac was ever some sort of … leader?" Hermione scoffed.

"Oh, not here," the girl said. "In the family. And Cormac always made it sound like he was more influential than he really was at school."

"The family?" Neville asked. The girl was being annoyingly succinct as she poured gravy over her meat and began to eat.

"Yeah, he's me cousin," she said through a mouthful of potatoes.

"Who, Cormac?"

"Nah, Brogan," she rolled her eyes. "Cormac's me brother."

"So basically Brogan thinks he's the best thing on two legs and that the world owes him?" Harry asked.

"Worse than Cormac, he is." She nodded her head emphatically.

"I'll say," Hermione muttered.

By some unspoken agreement Neville, Hermione and Harry stayed in the Great Hall until the meal was cleared entirely away. They all knew that they were waiting for Ginny. She never came. When they were the last people in the room Neville got to his feet.

"Come on," he said softly. "I've got some Transfiguration homework I could use some help with." Hermione looked up at him and sighed.

"She heard the whole thing, didn't she?" she asked them. Harry nodded.

"I think so," he said miserably.

"Maybe she'll be ready to talk now," Neville said as the three of them shuffled out of the Great Hall.

"I don't know if I am. What am I supposed to say?" Harry asked as they came to the portrait behind which the secret Gryffindor Room lay.

"I think it'll be more about what you do," Hermione muttered. Neville hesitated slightly in front of the portrait.

"Hey, you want to go see if we can figure this thing out?" he asked.

"Yeah," muttered Harry, pushing the portrait aside and started up the narrow staircase.

"You really should go talk to Ginny," Hermione said, frowning. Harry ignored her, something unpleasant coiling in his stomach. He knew he needed to talk to Ginny, but it didn't make it any easier to confront the situation.

"Let's go," he said to Neville. "Coming Hermione?" She looked at them and sighed.

"Fine."

***************

The common room was still full when Harry, Hermione and Neville finally returned. Groups of students were clustered around tables strewn with parchment and books, board games or magazines. Brogan McLaggen, who gave Harry a superior look as he crossed the room, was holding court in front of the fireplace with a group of fourth years. Harry rolled his eyes at the younger boy, searching for Ginny. He found her tucked into a chair in one corner, her Charms textbook in her hands.

"Sorry we didn't get very far," Neville was saying as Harry stared at Ginny.

"Those runes are hard," Hermione commented, rummaging in her bag.

"Are you sure there are more there than there was last time?" Neville asked. Harry didn't hear Hermione's reply as he crossed to where Ginny was sitting. He approached carefully. She looked guarded and held the book in front of her as if it were a shield, protecting her from the rest of the room.

"Hey Ginny," Harry said quietly. He felt like people were staring at them and glanced surreptitiously around but everyone seemed to be absorbed in what they were doing.

"Hi Harry," Ginny replied. She did not look up. Harry stood uncomfortably while she pretended to read her book, turning pages deliberately before she had time to absorb any of the information contained on the pages.

"I thought you'd have come down to eat," Harry eventually said.

"Wasn't hungry," Ginny replied, turning another page rapidly.

"You haven't eaten?"

"I don't have an appetite," Ginny said shortly. Harry took a deep breath.

"Listen, I don't know what it was exactly that you heard earlier-"

"Probably the same thing as everyone else," Ginny cut him off, snapping her book shut and standing up.

"Well he-"

"It's fine, Harry," Ginny interrupted again. "Don't worry about it. You deserve to be happy. I'm not going to stand in the way of that."

"You don't stand in the way of it," Harry replied with exasperation. "What are you trying to say?"

"There's no need to pretend," Ginny said tiredly, turning away.

"Pretend what?"

"That you're still interested."

"Oh, don't be so ridiculous," Harry hissed, desperately hoping no one could hear their discussion.

"There is _no need_ to start calling me names," Ginny replied coldly.

"I'm sorry," Harry said softly, "but you can't believe what Brogan's going around saying, surely?"

"Oh no! I don't believe_ that_ idiot!" Ginny laughed harshly. "I know neither you nor Hermione would do that to Ron."

"But you believe I would do it to _you_?" Harry asked quietly. Ginny just looked at him sadly for a moment before she turned away and headed up the dormitory stairs. Harry stared after her, dumbfounded, not really understanding what had just happened but feeling reasonably sure Ginny was slowly slipping away from him and he was powerless to stop it.

The next few days until the weekend dragged. Ginny avoided Harry with a dogged determination that would have made Moody proud. Harry always found himself sitting two or three seats away from her at meals, during classes and in the common room. Hermione tried to talk to her but Ginny made excuses and started avoiding her as well. Neville managed to hold one cryptic conversation with her where she'd insisted that things were 'better this way'.

"She looks terrible," Neville had murmured later. "I don't know what things exactly are better, but it's not better for her health." Harry watched helplessly as she began to look pale and drawn. She walked with her head down, stopped responding in class and went up to bed early. It wasn't easy to watch her. Ginny vacated rooms as soon as she could after Harry entered and seemed determined to practice Quidditch during every spare waking moment.

One afternoon when it was raining so hard the Gryffindor Quidditch team had refused to practice for longer than half an hour, Ginny was sitting alone in front of the common room fire, staring into space.

"How's Quidditch training going?" Harry asked her, sitting tentatively on one of the chairs nearby. Her cheeks were flushed and her freshly-washed hair shone in the firelight. He ached to reach out and touch her but she seemed to have an impenetrable wall around her.

"Pretty good," Ginny answered. "The Beaters are getting better. And Kyle's still doing really well. The trainee Seekers are coming along too."

"Sounds like you don't need me," Harry said lightly.

"I wouldn't say that," Ginny said, a flash of warmth flooding her features for a moment. Harry smiled, encouraged by her willingness to talk to him.

"Do you … um, think the Harpies will let you know about try-outs soon?" Harry asked her, wanting to prolong the moment, casting about for something to talk about.

"I think they'll be sending letters out after Christmas."

"I think it's great you are putting in all this extra work," Harry said. She eyed him warily.

"Really?"

"Oh yeah," Harry replied enthusiastically. "It's a fantastic opportunity and really, what could be better than making a secure future for yourself?"

"Yes, I suppose so," Ginny said. The warmth had left her features and she had resumed staring into the fire.

"Absolutely," Harry enthused. "It's such a brilliant opportunity. You should really make the most of it." He knew he was babbling and Ginny hadn't left him quite so incoherent for a long time but he desperately wanted to prolong the conversation.

"Yes, well, don't worry," Ginny snapped inexplicably. "I'm doing the best I can." She stood up abruptly.

"I didn't-"

"It's okay, you don't have to pretend-"

"_Why_ do you keep saying that?"

"Never mind," Ginny said and she left swiftly. Harry stared after her, willing her to come back, confess it was all a big mistake and throw herself into his arms. The portrait hole remained stubbornly closed.

Harry left Hogwarts as soon as he could that Friday. He surprised Andromeda, who had not been expecting him so early. He was too tired and miserable to explain anything to her and Andromeda did not press the issue, wordlessly handing Teddy over and retreating tactfully.

Harry wasn't sure if Molly Weasley had planned to visit that afternoon or if Andromeda had contacted her. He came in from a walk with Teddy to find her in the kitchen with a cup of tea and some of Andromeda's finest fruitcake.

"Ah, there you are, Harry," Molly said, reaching into the pram where Teddy sat propped up and wrapped in layers of blankets. She pulled off his little, knitted hat and ruffled Teddy's black, tufty hair, smiling at him. Teddy grinned a gummy smile, showing his two even white teeth as he squealed at Molly.

"Da!" Teddy cried. "Da, da, ba!"

"Yes, you are a very clever lad," Molly smiled at the baby and Teddy turned his hair red and his eyes flickered for a moment before settling into a deep brown. "Oh look Andie, he's done his eyes like mine again."

"He tried to make his ears like Kreacher the other day," Andromeda said, chuckling. Teddy waved his little fists, flapping them in agitation. Harry reached over and carefully untied his little mittens before extracting him from his blankets.

"Cake, Harry?" Molly asked gently. Harry shook his head carefully, concentrating on removing the heavy woollen jumper Teddy was wearing. He tried not to look at the baby's eyes, so much like Ginny's, but Teddy began bouncing excitedly and turned his little face up to Harry, squealing with delight. He grabbed at Harry's glasses and Harry let him grasp them, pulling them off his face before he carefully removed them from the tiny fingers and lay them on the table out of reach.

Without his glasses he didn't have to look at Ginny's eyes in that adorable face and see the red Weasley hair now adorning Teddy's head. The baby lunged for Harry's ears as if they were a fascinating play thing and Harry grimaced as a wet, slobbery kiss was planted on his cheek. Without his glasses Harry also did not have to look at the concern etched on the faces of both women at the kitchen table. He breathed a sigh of relief when Teddy changed his eyes back to green after trying unsuccessfully to eat Harry's nose.

"Da!" Teddy squealed. He seemed to realise he hadn't gotten much of a response from Harry and his little forehead wrinkled as he stuck a finger in his mouth.

"You didn't have much lunch, Harry," Andromeda said quietly. "Are you sure you wouldn't like some cake?" Harry shook his head.

"I'm fine," he replied softly. Even without his glasses on he couldn't miss the look Molly and Andromeda shared. He could ignore it though. He stood up, plucking his glasses from the table and shoving them on his face hastily. "I'll just go change him and put him down for his nap." Harry didn't wait for an answer; he turned and hurried up the stairs to Teddy's small nursery.

"Ha," Teddy said solemnly, as Harry laid him down on the change table, charming a stuffed Golden Snitch to fly above Teddy's head. As he changed the baby into sleepwear, Harry spoke softly to him.

"Sorry, buddy," Harry said quietly. "I guess I'm not in a very talkative mood today, am I?"

"Ma," Teddy said.

"I don't think Ginny likes me anymore," Harry said, pulling off the soft little shoes that held Teddy's socks on. Teddy kicked his feet in the air excitedly, clutching at his toes and pulling his socks off with ease.

"La!" he squealed, waving the socks.

"I'm in love with her," Harry said as he carefully buttoned Teddy's sleepsuit. "Ginny … she's so beautiful, Teddy. I thought … I thought she loved me too." He picked Teddy up and settled into the rocking chair by the window, settling the baby on his lap.

"Aaaaah," Teddy replied, twisting in Harry's lap until he could rest his head on Harry's chest, his little legs tucked up under his body.

"We shared something really special," Harry whispered. "I don't know what went wrong. I wish my dad was here, he'd be able to help me figure it out; or my mum. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you haven't got a mum and dad, either." Teddy raised his head and looked at Harry carefully before stretching up a little hand and clutching at Harry's collar.

"Har," he said sleepily. Harry let the tears fall onto the downy head as the baby fell into a deep slumber.

When Harry came down the stairs some time later he saw Molly in the entrance hall, her travelling cloak around her shoulders.

"There you are, dear," Molly said briskly. "I wondered where you'd gotten to." Harry narrowed his eyes. She seemed to be falsely cheerful.

"Took a while," he offered by way of explanation. Molly smiled and plucked his cloak from the stand in the hallway.

"Let's be off then," she said.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Home," Molly said simply, in a tone that brooked no argument. Harry sighed heavily and wrapped his cloak around his shoulders before popping his head into the kitchen to bid Andromeda farewell.

Harry and Molly arrived at the Burrow and she set him to work preparing vegetables immediately, keeping up a steady stream of conversation that Harry barely listened to. He nodded in what he thought were all the right places and scrubbed, peeled and chopped until a meal was bubbling merrily on the stove.

George didn't come home that night, sending word to say he was meeting with Percy at The Leaky Cauldron. So Harry spent the meal listening to Ginny's parents discuss the rising cost of fresh fruit and vegetables and their suspicion that the ghoul might be lonely. He excused himself as soon as possible after he'd eaten half a piece of treacle tart. Harry hovered on the landing outside Ginny's bedroom before opening the door quietly and slipping inside. Her scent lingered on the air. He closed his eyes and imagined her there, laughing and smiling at him, kissing him.

Harry's mind drifted back to Hallowe'en. He and Ginny hadn't lingered in the large room lined with paintings. Ginny had led the way slowly and surely to the little door at the other end and Harry had looked at her as if asking permission before he placed his hand slowly on the doorknob. They waited as it grew in size until it was big enough to let them through.

"What do you think this room was?" Ginny asked, running a hand over the handle of the dagger that matched the sword of Gryffindor as Harry lit one of the torches.

"Looks like maybe a duelling room," Harry shrugged, padding over to the fireplace and inspecting it. "I think this wood will still be good …" He froze as he felt two soft, warm hands slide around his waist from behind.

"A fire probably isn't the most important thing," Ginny had whispered. Harry turned in her grasp and slid his arms around her shoulders.

"Probably not," he whispered back.

Harry roused himself from his memories and slipped back out onto the landing. He padded quietly up to Ron's bedroom, memories of Ginny kissing his jaw line and down his chest dancing across his mind as he undressed for bed.

Harry was sitting on Ron's bed, the jar of Madam Pomfrey's ointment in his hands when Molly suddenly opened the door and stepped through. She started when she looked up to see Harry sitting there, shirtless.

"I'm sorry dear, I'm not used to anyone being in here at the moment," she said ruefully. "I guess I forgot."

"That's okay," Harry said quietly, bending his head over the jar to unscrew the lid with more precision than such an action warranted. He still managed to fumble and dropped the jar. It rolled to Molly's feet. She bent down to scoop it up and stepped over to give it to him.

"To heal and fade the scarring?" she asked softly. Harry nodded.

"I'm not having a lot of luck with applying it, though," he said.

"Why didn't you get Ginny to do this for you?" Molly asked as she examined his bared shoulder, the raised, angry welts trailed down his upper arm and wound up his neck stood out in sharp relief in the mirror above Ron's dresser. Harry sighed heavily.

"I … well, I didn't want her to see them," Harry admitted.

"We had an Owl from her this week," Molly said conversationally, holding out her hand for the jar. Harry looked up apprehensively. He gave her the jar and turned his head away, looking out of the window at the stars that twinkled in the clear sky. Molly unscrewed the jar and continued. "She seemed a little off."

"I think we sort of had a fight," Harry said. He flinched as he felt Molly's fingers smear the ointment on his upper arm and towards his shoulder.

"What was it about?"

"Hermione … Ron … Quidditch …_ us_ … I don't even know anymore," Harry blurted out. He felt Molly's hand stop briefly before she resumed applying the ointment to the parts of his shoulder he had been unable to reach. Harry blushed profusely.

"She said she's been playing a lot of Quidditch and Hermione has been on at her to study more," Molly volunteered.

"She took over captaining the team, I suppose," Harry said, seizing on the most innocuous aspect of the can of worms he'd opened up. "I'm not allowed to fly."

"I should think not," Molly sniffed, spreading ointment around the back of Harry's neck and massaging gently.

"We aren't spending much time together," Harry started, feeling something inside him give way, spilling his feelings out into the room. "She's practicing so hard for her chance with the Harpies and studying for her NEWTS. I've had a lot of paperwork to go through for the Children's Home, there's Teddy and … well Hermione doesn't let me slack off either. I miss her even though we're always together. But, well … Ginny … she heard this fourth year idiot spouting off rot about me and Hermione. She … she thinks it's true – if not with Hermione with … someone."

"What happened with Hermione?" Molly asked quietly. Harry looked up at her sharply.

"It's not-"

"I know," Molly cut him off, looking him in the eye. There was no accusation in her gaze and her touch remained soft as she continued with the ointment. "What happened that makes her think it?"

"I don't know," Harry sighed. "How could she think that? She's my everything. I share everything with her." Harry hung his head in despair.

"She hasn't seen these scars."

"Well …" Harry swallowed.

"I've seen you together, Harry," Molly said, working the ointment down his arm even though he knew she could reach those areas himself. "You're young and in love. I remember what that's like, Arthur and I were like that once." Molly chuckled as she scooped more ointment from the jar and began working over Harry's shoulder again, as if she might have missed a spot. "Well, let's just say she doesn't keep her hands to herself and you don't stop her." Harry blushed.

"She's very … persuasive," Harry acknowledged reluctantly. Molly laughed softly.

"She always has been and she almost never gets turned down," she said. "How did you hide the scars from her?"

"Well, it was easy. They are mostly under my clothes-"

"Harry," Molly said warningly, "I wasn't born yesterday." Harry wondered how much she knew, or how much she'd figured out about his relationship with her daughter.

"I didn't let her touch them," he said eventually. "Not even through clothes. You can feel them …"

"So you pushed her away. Pulled away from her; and now she seems to think you are seeing someone else?"

"Well, when you put it like that it sounds terrible," Harry grimaced.

"I don't think she thinks you _are_ seeing someone," Molly said gently. "If I know Ginny, it's more that she thinks you would … enjoy the company of … someone different, rather than her."

"Why?"

"You don't have to go into detail, dear," Molly said, still massaging his shoulder almost absently. She took a deep breath and sighed as if she might be thinking about what to say next. "But you've … been together I'm sure." Harry was mortified and had no idea what to say. He understood exactly what Molly was implying.

"I … we … she …"

"Which is absolutely none of my business. You're both of age; both fully-grown," Molly said firmly, slathering more ointment across places she had already anointed. "She was bound to feel very vulnerable afterwards. It's a very … exposing experience."

"We haven't … I got bitten right after," Harry eventually blurted.

"Ah," Molly said. She seemed to be waiting for Harry to say something.

"I couldn't let her see them," he said softly, still feeling the heat of embarrassment warming his cheeks.

"Ginny wouldn't think less of you because of a few scars, Harry," Molly said, frowning.

"No!" Harry exclaimed. "It's not that. I'm dangerous and I'm reckless and … I do things without thinking them through and …" He trailed off. Molly regarded him for a moment before speaking.

"And these scars are as bad as they are because you got them flying Seeker for her," she said eventually, matter-of-factly. Harry nodded.

"I just didn't want her to know," Harry said softly. "I didn't want her to blame herself. I guess … the whole thing is my fault. I kept pulling away from her and now I'm complaining because I miss her. What did I expect? She's probably thinking … Oh, who am I kidding? I don't know what she's thinking."

"Well, I expect by now she's thinking you prefer girls more like Hermione," Molly said softly, sitting down next to him.

"Like … smarter?" puzzled Harry. Molly chuckled softly as she screwed the lid back on the jar and handed Harry his pyjama top.

"No," Molly said quietly. "Not smarter, curvier." Harry drew his brows together in concentration.

"Hermione's got more curves?" he asked in confusion. "Really?" Molly smiled widely and patted his cheek.

"Yes, dear. Yes, she does," was all she said as she stood and headed for the door. "Get a good night's sleep. You need to go back to Hogwarts in the morning and sort this out." Harry nodded numbly, his mind turning over, running through the meaning of Molly's previous words.

"Ginny thinks I'm not happy with her?" he asked as Molly stood on the threshold. She turned slightly.

"If you've stopped being affectionate she might think you're … not attracted to her," Molly said.

"She thinks I don't want her anymore? After …" Harry gestured aimlessly with one hand and turned bright red. "Doesn't she?" He looked beseechingly at Molly.

"I suspect so, dear." She nodded slightly. Harry jumped up, grabbing his cloak and throwing it on.

"Well I can't stay, then," he said urgently. "I have to go now and talk to her."

"You may want to change out of your pyjamas, dear," Molly said with a hint of a smile. Harry smiled sheepishly and rummaged in his bag for the shirt he'd been wearing earlier. He stopped suddenly and turned to Molly.

"How did you know?" he asked quietly. "Are you … upset?" Molly looked at Harry thoughtfully for a moment.

"I thought I would be," she said after a moment. "It's not easy reminding yourself that your baby's grown up. I think a year ago I would have been very upset. So much has happened since then and … I had a talk with Ginny over the summer and she told me how much you mean to her." Molly stepped back into the room and sat down on the bed. She patted the counterpane next to her.

"She means everything to me," Harry said softly, sitting down next to Molly and twisting his shirt in his hands.

"I know," Molly said, smoothing his hair back from his forehead. "It's not up to me to decide when or where or who with. Ginny knew you were the one for her, probably long before we all believed her."

"Do you believe her?" Harry asked, surprised at his own boldness. He quickly looked down at his knees.

"Yes," Molly said, "and I believe you too." Harry felt a lump rise in his throat. He swallowed painfully. He hadn't realised just how much he wanted someone to tell him that. Molly shifted slightly and reached out a hand to his chin. She turned his face so that he was looking at her.

"Does she still?" he whispered. "Does she still know I'm hers?"

"I'm sure she does," Molly said. "She just needs reminding." Molly let go of Harry's chin but he held her gaze.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"What for?" Molly looked surprised.

"I … she's your daughter and …" Harry shifted uncomfortably not knowing how to justify to Molly that he had slept with her only daughter.

"Don't apologise for loving her, Harry," Molly said. "If there is one thing having you in our lives has taught us, it's that there is no such thing as too much love." She reached over and engulfed Harry in a hug. Harry found himself hugging her back.

"I always thought you taught me that," he mumbled into her shoulder. Molly pulled back a little.

"Harry," she said, holding onto his upper arms and searching his face, "Ginny made her choices a long time ago. I'm not going to try and convince you, or myself, that a year ago I wouldn't have been upset but … things are probably different now. I lost one of my babies."

"I know, I'm so sorry-"

"I'm not going to get angry or upset with you for loving each other," Molly interrupted quietly. "There have been too many losses." Harry studied her face carefully. She smiled at him and squeezed his scarred shoulder.

"I've been really stupid," Harry said quietly.

"Maybe," Molly allowed, smiling slightly. She stood up and crossed swiftly to the door.

"Thank you," Harry whispered.

"Any time, Harry," she said and slipped quietly out the door and down the stairs.

Harry hastily donned his clothes, shoved his things in his bag and leapt down the stairs two at a time. Arthur was still sitting at the kitchen table, _The Evening Prophet_ open in front of him.

"You're off, then?" Arthur enquired as Harry stopped to snatch his half eaten treacle tart from his plate. Harry nodded.

"Um, got someone I need to talk to," he muttered, stuffing the tart into his mouth.

"If she lets you get a word in," Arthur murmured, turning the page of his newspaper. Harry stared at him and swallowed the last of the treacle tart reflexively.

"She isn't talking to me," he eventually said dryly. "I figure if I'm quick I might get out a couple sentences before she fires up." Arthur looked up at Harry, his eyes twinkling as he laughed. Harry shrugged sheepishly. Arthur regarded him for a moment.

"Good luck, son," Arthur said eventually. Harry smiled grimly. He had a feeling he was going to need it.


	38. Chapter 38

**38. Making Up**

It wasn't terribly late when Harry arrived back in Gryffindor Tower. The common room was still full of students. It was Friday night and even the youngest students were still up: studying, playing Exploding Snap or listening to the Wireless. He found Hermione sitting in a corner arm chair reading from a dusty, old book and twisting locks of hair around her finger, making it stand more on end than it usually did. As Harry made his way across the common room he noticed a slight hush fall over its inhabitants and heard what he thought might be a few sniggers, but he ignored them as he went straight to Hermione.

"Where's Ginny?" he asked her quietly. Hermione looked up.

"Harry!" she exclaimed. "I didn't think you'd be back until tomorrow."

"I need to do something," Harry said shortly. "Where's Ginny?"

"She went up to bed."

"Can you go and get her for me?" Harry asked.

"I can try," Hermione said slowly. "But Harry, I'm not sure she'll come down."

"Please?"

"All right … but I did warn you …" Hermione sighed, closed her book and put it on a nearby table before heading up to the girls' dormitory. Harry stood and watched the bottom of the staircase, waiting for Ginny to come down. He didn't notice Neville join him and started when the other man spoke softly.

"She got a Howler from Ron this evening."

"Hermione did?"

"No." Neville rolled his eyes. "Ginny."

"Ginny?" Harry asked, startled. "What-" He was interrupted by muffled shouting and a slamming door. Hermione appeared moments later, shaking her head.

"She yelled at me and slammed the door in my face," she said.

"We heard that much, Hermione," Neville said patiently.

"Why?" Harry asked plaintively.

"She blames me for the Howler," Hermione admitted, shifting restlessly on the bottom step.

"The Howler … the one from Ron?" Harry asked, wishing they'd get to the point.

"Yeah," Neville explained. "It was pretty embarrassing."

"Since when does Ron know how to make a Howler?" Harry asked, exasperated. "And why would he send one to Ginny?"

"I wrote to Ron," Hermione said quietly. "I told him what Brogan's been going about saying. I think Ron might have gotten the idea that Ginny believed him." Harry groaned.

"Professor Fiesche was not impressed," Neville added.

"What's he got to do with it?" Harry turned to Neville.

"Well, he was sort of standing nearby when Ginny tried to drench it to make it stop," Neville explained, failing to keep a straight face. Harry smiled ruefully.

"Oh dear," Harry murmured, smiling slightly. "His cat …?"

"Screeched and leapt off his head," Hermione admitted with a grin. "It was actually pretty funny."

"The detention wasn't though," Neville sobered. "She's threatened Ron's manhood multiple times since we came back from tea."

"Fiesche gave her detention?"

"Oh yeah." Neville nodded and adopted a supercilious air. "Miss Weasley, while it may amuse your classmates to flaunt your love affairs and air your family's dirty laundry in the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, _I_ am singularly unimpressed. To add to this ridiculous display, you have tormented a defenceless animal and … ruined my robes. I will see you in my office for detention, tomorrow. I am sure I can find something for you to scrub, given your penchant for splashing water about as if we were at a water park."

"He made Snape's detentions sound like a friendly afternoon tea," Dean added. Harry, who had been subject to more of Snape's detentions than he cared to remember, doubted that very much.

"What on earth did this Howler say?" Harry enquired, peering up the staircase, willing Ginny to calm herself, change her mind and come down.

"First of all, Ron very loudly asked Ginny if she was quite sane," Neville began.

"Then he questioned her hearing, I think," Dean broke in.

"And her brainpower," added Gilbert who had sidled up to the group of older students.

"He indicated dismemberment unless she came to her senses," Seamus called out gleefully. Harry turned to him and realised that everyone in the common room had fallen silent and all were watching the action at the foot of the girls' staircase.

"It's possible he indicated he'd disown her if she messed you about," Dean added helpfully. Harry grimaced.

"Stupid git," Harry muttered, turning his back on the rest of the common room.

"It arrived in the Entrance Hall just as we were all going in to eat," Gilbert piped up helpfully. "I've never seen one of those before. It _yelled_ at her!" Harry frowned at Gilbert's exuberance.

"She was very embarrassed," Hermione said quietly.

"I need to speak to her," Harry said quietly.

"Apparently," Hermione said shortly, "I am a poor messenger and she wants to know why you don't have the bollocks to show up yourself." Harry groaned in frustration.

"I can't go up there, is she insane?"

"I HEARD THAT, POTTER!"

"What the-" Harry stopped abruptly as he saw the fleshy end of an Extendable Ear resting on the bottom step. He grinned evilly and picked it up, careful not to touch the steps. He was just about to speak directly into it when the other end flew down towards him, slapping him on the face as it rolled itself back up.

"Oh, that's much better," Hermione said approvingly, "definitely much easier to deal with than a tangled mess of string. Ron said he was going to look at that. Did you know Ron got one tangled around a couple of Chocolate Frogs once, and by the time he got them loose they were just so annoyed they jumped away before-"

"Hermione," Harry said, without a great deal of patience, "I don't much care about the innovations of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes right now. In fact I could cheerfully strangle the lot of them!"

"Oh Harry, you don't mean that-"

"Oh yes I do!" Harry exclaimed. "Have you _heard_ George's poetry?" Hermione just raised an eyebrow at him and Harry sighed. "All right, I don't mean it … but I am running out of ideas here. To think … I assumed I could come back and just talk to Ginny and yet Ron, the git, has to go and mess it all up and put her in a really foul mood!"

"Well, if you are that desperate that you absolutely _have_ to do this now-"

"Yes, Hermione," Harry interrupted, pacing back and forth at the foot of the stairs and squeezing the Extendable Ear. "I absolutely have to do this now. Why won't she come down? _I_ didn't send her a Howler."

"Okay then, maybe you just have to get up there-".

"Yeah, why don't you just go up and get her?" Gilbert interrupted, peering around Harry and up the stairwell.

"Can't," Harry said shortly.

"What do you mean?" Gilbert asked. "Don't you know which room she's in? I can go figure it out for you!" And before Harry could stop him Gilbert had ducked under his arm and darted up the stairs.

Perhaps it was because he was smaller and lighter than Ron had been during their fifth year, but Gilbert made it to the eighth step before the klaxon wailed with an ear-splitting screech and the first year tumbled to the floor at their feet as the steps slid together seamlessly. Seamus let out a loud guffaw and Neville chuckled quietly as Gilbert sat up and rubbed the back of his head gingerly.

"At least you learned it before fifth year." Harry grinned at Gilbert and extended a hand to help him up.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Gilbert asked plaintively.

"You know now," Harry said with a wry smile. "Okay, how am I going to get her down here?"

"Well, does she like to slide?" Gilbert asked. "Cause maybe she'd like to just slide down and-"

"Gilbert," Harry interrupted, "you're not helping." He was startled as Ginny suddenly shouted from upstairs.

"HARRY POTTER!"

"That doesn't sound promising," Harry muttered to Neville and Hermione slapped him on the arm. Harry glared at Hermione before calling up the stairs. "IT WASN'T ME!"

"WHY NOT?" Ginny yelled back. Harry raised his eyebrows at Hermione.

"Looks like she _wants_ you to do the impossible, mate," Dean said, slapping him on the back and moving off. "Good luck!"

"Yeah, thanks a lot," Harry grumbled, glowering at his retreating back. A door slammed upstairs. Harry ran a hand through his hair haphazardly.

"She's angry at Ron, not you," Hermione said.

"Why is she yelling at me then?" Harry demanded. "What did you tell Ron anyway?"

"I just said that Brogan insinuated we were … you know …" Hermione gestured between the two of them helplessly. "And that Ginny sort of wasn't really talking to you …"

"This is getting me nowhere!" Harry exclaimed. "I need a way to get to Ginny."

"Just leave it till the morning," Neville said with a shrug.

"This can't wait," Harry said quietly. Neville nodded and clapped Harry on the shoulder before he disappeared up the stairs to their dormitory. Harry turned to Hermione. "All right then. What should I do now?"

"Why are you asking me?" she asked him indignantly.

"It's your fault!" Harry hissed, aware that the occupants of the common room were still listening in.

"It is not," Hermione retorted hotly. "If you hadn't been an utter _git_ none of this would have happened!" Harry didn't know what to say. She was right it was all his fault. He turned and thumped his head lightly on the wall in frustration.

"Okay I've been in bigger scrapes than this before," Harry said. Hermione snorted.

"Really?" she asked sarcastically. Harry ignored her.

"We got out of those just fine, we can figure this one out," Harry insisted.

"We?" asked Hermione sceptically. Harry arranged his features into the most pathetic expression he could. Hermione sighed. "Well really … face-to-face isn't the only method of communication."

"What does _that_ mean?"

Before Hermione could answer, the portrait hole swung open and Professor Crockwell bustled in, her hair spilling out of the old-fashioned night cap perched on her head, her glasses askew on the tip of her nose.

"What's going on?" she asked breathlessly, hurrying to a stop in front of Harry and Hermione, still standing at the foot of the girl's dormitory slide. "Miss Granger, did I hear the stair alarm go off?"

"Erm, well-"

"Who was it?" Professor Crockwell demanded sharply. She eyed Harry warily and he attempted to look as innocent as possible. He saw Seamus push Gilbert back into his seat in front of the fireplace.

"Minor misunderstanding, accidentally touched the step," Harry said. Professor Crockwell narrowed her eyes at him.

"I think, Mr Potter, if you cannot keep to the rules …" she pursed her lips and straightened her spectacles. "Young man, you are Head Boy and have been here long enough to know better. I think perhaps … a detention tomorrow might help you remember."

"But-"

"It must be time for bed, all of you," the professor said. Harry stared at her, she was normally so mild-mannered and ineffectual. He shook his head wearily as she turned around primly and began hurrying everyone to bed. He could almost feel everyone glaring at him. Professor Crockwell turned back to Harry. "Given that Professor Fiesche is already supervising a detention tomorrow I shall inform him that you will be joining in." Harry groaned inwardly as she turned on her heel and left, barking at a group of first years on her way out.

"Well, now we know not to disturb _her_ beauty sleep," Seamus muttered as he and Dean approached the stairs to the boys' dormitory. Harry followed them up, threw himself grumpily on his bed and kicked off his shoes. There were two satisfying thuds as they hit the floor.

"Any luck, mate?" Neville asked him from his seat on his own bed. He was surrounded by parchment, quills, several bottles of ink and a rather odd collection of rose bushes. They were lopsided and a number of brightly coloured purple blooms littered the floor.

"No luck," sighed Harry moodily. "Crockwell came and ordered us all to bed. It'll probably have to wait till morning after all. At least she knew I was trying … right?"

"Well … yeah …" Dean said slowly before trailing off. "But will she think you tried hard enough?" Harry groaned and cursed violently.

"I need to talk to her," he mumbled.

"Hermione have any ideas?" Neville inquired as he reached for one of the rose bushes.

"Not really … Neville, what _are_ you doing?" Harry asked.

"Luna likes that Muggle poetry we've been studying," Neville admitted sheepishly. "So I sometimes pick one to send to her."

"Send her?" Seamus wrinkled his nose at Neville. "Don't you see her all the time? Why would you send her a poem?"

"Can't see her late at night when she's in Ravenclaw Tower and I'm in Gryffindor Tower." Neville shrugged as he pulled one of the rose bushes towards him.

"So, you're … sending her an owl?" Harry asked as Neville concentrated hard waving his wand above the rose bush intently.

"Yeah," Neville paused, "I can usually convince one of the owls from the Owlery to fly up here. One of the Barn owls'll be here soon."

"So what are you doing with the rose bush?"

"Erm …" Neville blushed slightly. "Well, I've been working on getting a blue rose. Mostly purple these days but I got a black one once. No idea how _that_ happened. This poem's about roses and she's a Ravenclaw so …"

Harry watched as Neville waved his wand in an intricate pattern and a rosebud cycled quickly through several colours of the rainbow and settled on a bright, emerald green. Donald Smythe, the boy in Ron's old bed, snickered and Neville glowered at him before sighing heavily.

"Well at least it matches your eyes," Neville said ruefully to Harry. "Not sure I want my girlfriend reminded of _your_ eyes when reading _my_ letter." Neville waved the wand over a second bush and produced a lovely red rose which he scowled at.

"Well … at least it's a Gryffindor colour … she can think of you," Donald suggested hopefully. Neville nodded, looking resigned and cut the rose, wrapping it carefully in the parchment he'd been writing on. He eyed the green rose with distaste.

"What am I going to do with this one?" he complained. "Know any girls who want a _green_ rose? What a stupid colour."

"Audrey would think it was an insult," Seamus sighed.

"Only want to know about one girl," Harry grumbled, "and she is _not_ in a good mood."

"Well … she'd probably like a rose that is the same colour as your eyes," Dean said slyly. He winked, "Could put her in a better mood."

"Yes, but how am I supposed to give it to her?" Harry asked listlessly. "When I see Ron …" He trailed off grumpily, cursing his best mate who had clearly annoyed his sister beyond reason. Further thought was interrupted when a large, brown barn owl swooped in through the open window, followed closely by a white blur that flapped ungracefully around the room before alighting on the end of Harry's bed.

Liberty fluffed out her feathers before tucking her wings close to her body and blinking slowly at Harry. She hopped towards her owner slowly. To Harry it seemed almost tentative and he extended an arm to her

"Hey girl," Harry murmured. "I haven't got any owl treats." Liberty hopped onto his arm and up to his shoulder, nuzzling Harry's cheek before taking off and fluttering madly over to Neville.

"Hey Libby," Neville said, producing an owl treat. Liberty seemed perfectly at ease with Neville and pecked his ear affectionately before fluttering back over to Harry.

"How'd she know you'd have one?" Harry asked, smoothing Liberty's feathers as she sat perched on his forearm.

"Oh, she comes in sometimes on the weekends," Neville said absently as he tied his red rose to the parchment scroll and beckoned to the barn owl.

"Why only on the weekends?"

"I guess she spends most of the week with Ginny or at the Burrow," Neville replied as he finished tying his missive to the leg of the barn owl. Harry watched the powerful brown bird as it launched itself from the dormitory window and into the night.

Harry realised he almost never spent the weekend at Hogwarts and he paid virtually no attention to what Liberty was doing. He knew Ginny often used her to send letters but he never wrote to anyone and hadn't been to the Owlery all year. All the correspondence he'd been attempting to sort out for the Children's Home had been delivered by stuck-up Ministry owls and he hadn't sent any of it back yet because he hadn't found any staff.

Hedwig had been a regular sight in Gryffindor Tower and Harry had kept bags of owl treats for her in his bedside table but he hadn't bought any for Liberty since he'd been at Hogwarts. Harry stroked the owl thoughtfully. If he'd ignored Hedwig like this she wouldn't have spoken to him until Christmas, but Liberty had no such issues. Harry watched her as she jumped on his bed, her wings fluttering, before perching on his leg precariously. Hedwig would have been appalled, Harry decided with a slight smile. Hedwig had been a very dignified owl but Liberty definitely had a more forgiving nature and a mischievous air.

"Honestly, how hard is it to make a rose go blue?" Neville muttered as he gathered up his parchment and quills and dropped them into his trunk. Harry looked up to find Neville glaring at the green rose which he had cut before tidying the rose bushes away into one corner of the room. At that moment Liberty hooted softly and stuck out her leg.

"Oh, you're brilliant!" Harry exclaimed and began to rummage in his trunk for a piece of string. He sat up clutching a ball of rough, brown twine to find Neville smiling at him and holding out a length of red ribbon.

"It'll look better," was all Neville said as Harry took the ribbon gratefully and tied the green rose to Liberty's leg. Liberty spread her wings and soared gracefully out of the window. Harry and Neville leaned out of the window but it was fruitless because the white owl was soon lost to sight around the curve of the Tower.

"Think it'll work?" Neville asked Harry pensively.

"No idea," Harry confessed. "I've never sent a girl flowers before. Do you think she'll like it? Oh no, I didn't write a note! Do you think she'll know it's from me?"

"I think so," Neville smiled.

"What if she's so mad she refuses to let Liberty in?"

"No worries there mate." Neville indicated Liberty swooping back to their window, her leg now free of the rose. They backed up to let her alight on the window sill. She hooted softly but carried no note.

"What does that mean?" Harry asked in frustration. "She didn't send a note back?"

"Give her the night to think about it," Neville said softly, closing the window and turning to his bed. Harry stuck his arm out for Liberty who eyed him carefully before hopping onto Harry's forearm and up to his shoulder.

Liberty hooted softly and hopped up and down on his shoulder merrily, nearly falling off. The owl grabbed at his shoulder and Harry hissed in pain, twisting away as the talons dragged across his scar tissue. Agitated, Liberty fluttered up onto the top of his four-poster.

Liberty gazed at Harry for a moment before giving a soft hoot and tucking her head under her wing. Harry climbed into bed thoughtfully and spent a fitful night dreaming of Ginny screaming at him from a Howler while Ron laughed maniacally.

******************

Harry dragged himself down to the Great Hall for breakfast feeling very out-of-sorts. He'd had a dreadful night's sleep, his clothes felt like hot knives as they dragged across his shoulder where Liberty had irritated the scar tissue and he didn't know what to do about Ginny. He sat gloomily at the Gryffindor table and reached absently for the bacon. Students drifted into the Hall as Harry ate breakfast, the toast tasted like sawdust and the pumpkin juice slipped down his throat without flavour. He was jolted from his reverie when Professor Fiesche swept up to him and swished his elegant green robes impatiently. Harry looked up at the professor.

"I understand that you will be joining Miss Weasley in detention this morning?" the man sniffed. Harry nodded mutely, afraid that if he opened his mouth he'd laugh himself silly at the way the man's cat was perched on his head, its tail flicking idly above his left shoulder. "If Miss Weasley bothers to show up you will both report to Professor Slughorn directly after breakfast. I understand he has some cleaning for you." The man sneered in a passable impression of Snape as he swept away.

"Every time I see that man I want to pull his cat's tail," Seamus said as he sat heavily in the seat next to Harry and reached for the toast.

"What kind of daft idiot wears a cat as a hat anyway?" Dean added.

"Does anyone know why he does it?" Harry asked as he stabbed at his scrambled eggs viciously. Seamus shook his head vigorously.

"You'd think," Dean said, "that an Auror would have very little success at all the dark wizard fighting with a cat sitting on his head."

"Maybe it's his secret weapon," said Neville, who had joined them. "It's a secret, crime-fighting cat with super, magical powers." Dean sniggered.

"Well, it's positively awful," Hermione said as she sat down opposite Harry. "That poor cat … I mean would you like it if you had to live on someone's head all the time?"

"You should do something about that, Hermione," Seamus said seriously.

"Do you think other students might help?" Hermione asked him. Seamus nodded.

"Oh yes," Dean said airily. "They'd be glad to."

"Well, then you can help me," Hermione said with a smug smile.

"Oh no ... no … got NEWTS you see," Dean said. "Terribly important you know." Hermione rolled her eyes at them.

"Ordinarily I would care about the cat but I'm much too busy preparing, um … well I have something I'm doing anyway," Hermione said. Harry looked up and eyed her carefully. Her face was a little flushed and she was eating her breakfast with more care than was really warranted for a slice of toast and marmalade.

"What are you up to Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Nothing."

"Sure," answered Harry sarcastically.

"Not up to anything illegal," Neville said under his breath. Seamus snorted.

"Or anything that involves fun," Dean added. Hermione glared at him.

"I know how to have fun," she said defensively. Dean grinned at her and raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"You can't hit on her," Seamus said giving Dean a shove. "Ron would have your guts for garters." Hermione turned her glare on Seamus who grinned back at her, unabashed. Dean rolled his eyes.

"I wasn't hitting on her-"

"Practicing then?" Neville asked slyly. "Who's your next conquest? That tall blonde in Ravenclaw … what's her name … Pamela?"

"Shirley," answered Seamus without missing a beat. "He is totally going after Shirley Templeton."

"Who calls their kid Shirley _Temple_ton?"

"Mr and Mrs Templeton?"

As his friends bantered back and forth Harry tried to pay attention, but he kept waiting for Ginny, his eyes on the doors to the Great Hall.

"She wasn't there when I got up," Hermione supplied quietly. Harry turned to her.

"Who?" he asked casually, taking a sip of his juice.

"Ginny's down at the Quidditch pitch," Neville said. "Saw her leaving in her practice gear when I came down this morning. She's probably trying to get practice in before this detention."

"Well, breakfast is nearly over," Hermione said crisply. "She'll miss breakfast if she's not careful. Honestly, Quidditch is hardly more important than breakfast. She hasn't been eating properly at all and she's going to make herself sick if she keeps this up."

"Quidditch is really important to her," Harry said defensively. "It's what she wants to do for a career."

"It's just a game-"

"Hey!" Dean interrupted. "It is not just a game! That's like saying football is just a game."

"And what do you think, Harry?" Seamus asked. "About Ginny having a career?" Harry just stared at Seamus in confusion.

"I think it's a great career," he said slowly. "Why does it matter what I think about Ginny having a career? I mean they give you career advice for a reason, don't they? You have to plan for your future and all that. Not that I gave that much thought at the time." He finished wryly and Neville laughed.

"Yeah, but if Ginny's off havin' a career, who's going to look after you?" Seamus winked suggestively.

"I can look after myself," said Harry, ignoring the innuendo.

"Oh, there are things you can't do for yourself." Seamus grinned.

"Well I can get my House Elf to look after me then," Harry said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Hermione looked at him reproachfully.

"Oh, I don't mean like _that_." Seamus leered suggestively. Harry launched a piece of toast at his head.

"Honestly," Harry said, "leaving your dirty thoughts alone, I think it's great that Ginny's thinking about her future and planning ahead and all that. I know it's got its risks but she's got a real chance and she should take it. She has my full support."

"Um, Harry," Hermione began tentatively. Harry turned to her and she continued in a rush. "Did you say that to Ginny?"

"Say what?"

"That Quidditch was great because she was planning for her future," Hermione answered, playing idly with her fork.

"Yeah …"

"Do you think … maybe … that she um …"

"Spit it out, Hermione," Harry said wearily, tired of the games and never knowing what it was he'd done wrong.

"She might have thought, on top of everything Brogan insinuated …" Hermione trailed off. Harry just looked at her. He tried to follow her train of thought, trying to think what he'd said; and what Ginny might have thought he'd meant.

Harry had pulled away from her physically and he knew that. Fixing it had seemed easy enough, but if he'd made some other stupid mistake … Harry did think it was brilliant that Ginny wanted to be a Quidditch player. While he certainly didn't want the fame and all that came with it Ginny would love it.

It wasn't that she was an attention seeker but she did enjoy people noticing her. Harry supposed it came down to being the youngest in a large family and wanting to be noticed from something she could do rather than by virtue of being the girl. She certainly knew what to do with attention and she did enjoy it but, like Harry, she'd rather get it for something she'd achieved than by something that had simply happened to her.

In their future he saw her as a Quidditch player and he saw himself getting all the perks and benefits of Quidditch without having to be on the pitch and in the papers. He could see them practicing together at their house. It would be on a pitch like the one at the Burrow, only with real hoops. It would be a place where he and Ron would convince Ginny and George to play two-a-side Quidditch. Where he and Charlie would challenge each other to catch the Snitch first and where he and Ginny would teach their children to fly. He saw himself watching Quidditch games with Ron and travelling Europe, seeing the sights and watching Ginny play Quidditch while Hermione read a book.

Wasn't this what he'd defeated Voldemort for? The chance to be whatever they wanted? The opportunity to set themselves up with a future. The chance to see the world, to follow their dreams. How could he have said anything wrong by saying Ginny should pursue her dreams?

"What did she think, Hermione?" Harry sighed wearily. "She has a problem with me saying she should follow her dreams and plan for her future?"

"If it sounded like that, yes," Hermione said cryptically. Harry narrowed his eyes at her. Hermione sighed. "If it sounded like you were expecting her to go off and plan her own life … without you."

"So because I encourage her to plan her own life and future she assumes I want her to plan it without me?" Harry felt like he was swimming in an endless sea without a life raft and his arms were getting tired. He was bound to sink beneath the surface any minute.

"That's what it probably sounded like." Hermione shrugged. Harry groaned and thumped his head lightly on the table, making the plates and goblets rattle ominously.

"Just brilliant," he muttered. Scowling, Harry collected some toast in a napkin just before the plates vanished from the tables in the Great Hall and stood up. He had absolutely no idea how to fix things but he figured a breakfast peace offering was a good start.

Harry almost made it to the great oak doors that led outside before Professor Slughorn collared him only inches from his goal.

"I understand you will be joining me today, m'boy?" the professor said jovially. He lowered his voice and winked exaggeratedly at Harry. "You _and_ Miss Weasley as I understand it? Professor Fiesche mentioned he was ah … too busy, one might say, to supervise. I thought to myself that not only is it an absolute travesty that _you_ are expected to serve a detention, but you might like some, er … time alone." Professor Slughorn gazed at Harry expectantly.

"Oh, um, thanks, professor," Harry managed.

"I really don't think these new professors know what's what, you know," Slughorn continued as he grasped Harry's right arm and led him down to the dungeons. "I volunteered at once to supervise of course. You need people around you that understand you, m'boy. People who don't expect you to do the same sort of drudgery as the rest of us mere mortals."

They had arrived at the dungeons and the packet of toast in Harry's hand was getting a little soggy. He noticed with a start that Ginny was leaning against the wall outside Slughorn's classroom. She was still dressed in her Quidditch practice robes and her windswept hair curled around her face where it had escaped the plait it was tied into. The cold air had given her cheeks a rosy glow but under the colour on her cheeks her eyes were a little sunken and she looked rather pale.

Ginny had her eyes closed and her head was resting on the wall behind her, exposing her throat and Harry had to fight an almost overwhelming urge lean down and suck on it and feel her pulse beat in his mouth. Her eyes snapped open and she jerked her head forward suddenly, staring directly at Harry before she looked away, the red heat of embarrassment creeping up her neck. Harry gazed at her while Slughorn unlocked the door to his classroom. Ginny looked fixedly at the floor and scurried into the classroom as soon as the door was open far enough for her to squeeze through.

"Well, here we are," Slughorn was saying. Harry listened with half an ear, his eyes still on Ginny and the toast in his hand leaving trails of slippery butter on his fingers as it soaked through the napkin. Ginny had ducked her head forward, as if she could hide, but with her hair tied back, there was no way for her to cover her face, and she only succeeded in looking more alluring to Harry.

Slughorn kept chattering something about heroes and suitable treatment but Harry paid him no attention. He was focused on Ginny and the way she shifted from one foot to the other and pulled on the end of her plait. Harry could see the tension in her neck and the way she stiffened when he leaned closer to her. When Slughorn said something vaguely stirring about gratitude and the love people had for Harry, Ginny's eyes met his briefly before she turned away. A searing blush crept up the back of her neck and Harry smiled as the tips of her ears went crimson like Ron's did when he was embarrassed.

Oh, she knew he was watching her, Harry was sure of that.

He smiled and leaned casually against one of the desks. It was the weekend and he was dressed in Muggle attire, something which he knew Ginny found very attractive. She'd once confessed that she thought robes left a little too much to the imagination and he'd let her buy him more than one outfit before they had returned to Hogwarts. Ginny appeared to keep her attention on Slughorn but Harry noticed the way her hands still fluttered nervously with the ends of her plait and the way her eyes strayed to where his feet stuck out into the aisle between the desks, one hooked over the top of the other.

He took the moment to admire the way her practice robes hung on her slim frame, her tiny feet encased in the boots that went with the Quidditch uniform and the warm jersey underneath, that clung to her curves enticingly. A Gryffindor scarf was hanging out of her pocket, the end trailing on the floor. Ginny got flustered when she tried to shove her hands in her pocket and succeeded only in pulling the scarf out. She bent to retrieve it and when she stood up she had shifted a little so that he could see her profile and he watched avidly as her chest rose and fell shallowly. His mind drifted to another time and another place when he'd felt those curves under his hands and her hands had trailed fire down his back as her legs curled around his. As he watched her he wondered dimly if she had deliberately turned the tables on him and was now trying to get his attention the way he had been trying to get hers.

If she was, it was working.

"So, we just need to … um," Ginny said, sounding a little breathless, "clean this erm, cauldron here?" Harry forced his mind back to the present, leaving Ginny's warm, inviting curves and her soft skin in his memories and valiantly trying to focus on the present.

"Yes, best to stay a little while longer though," Slughorn added. "Check things over, you understand. Make um … sure everything is … accomplished." He winked exaggeratedly at Harry as he slipped out the door, closing it with a soft click.

"Well, not exactly the detention I was expecting," Ginny muttered, rolling up her sleeves and eyeing the cauldron distastefully. "Don't worry, I'll do it. I'm the one who deserves the detention, stupid Ron, making me lose my stupid temper, ruddy git."

"How do you know I didn't do something to earn this detention?" Harry asked softly. "Maybe that's my filthy cauldron you're cleaning there."

"Oh, come on, your detention is totally fake," Ginny said, rolling her eyes expressively as she stalked to a nearby shelf and began rummaging about in the jars and bottles stored there. Harry took the opportunity to quickly _Scourgify_ the cauldron.

"Fake?" Harry asked, padding up behind her. "What on earth would make you say that this is a fake detention?" Ginny huffed loudly and turned around a jar of cleaning paste in her hands.

"Yours is a fake detention because …" She stopped and turned pink. Harry suspected it was the way he was standing mere inches from her, so close his breath was making the tendrils of hair on her forehead dance.

"I cleaned the cauldron," Harry said quietly, "and I brought you some breakfast." He held up the greasy, squashed toast and smiled wryly.

"Thanks," Ginny said softly. She didn't take the toast and her eyes searched his intently.

"I'm really sorry," Harry said, still clutching the toast between them like a ridiculous lifeline.

"I got your rose."

"Neville made it," Harry confessed, squeezing the toast reflexively.

"It matched your eyes."

"He didn't want to give it to Luna." Harry ignored the butter slowly slipping between his fingers as he dropped his eyes to her lips.

"I think you've destroyed my breakfast," Ginny said with a giggle. Harry looked down, startled, at the mangled lump of toast, still wrapped in a butter-spotted napkin.

"That's me," sighed Harry, "destroyer of toast and relationships. I know I messed up badly and if you don't want to go back to how we were that's okay but I miss you and I want you back and I love you and-" He heard the jar of cleaning paste thud onto a nearby desk and then her hands were at his collar, pulling him down, her gaze fastened unwaveringly on his mouth.

Harry dropped the toast as her lips met his and he hesitated only seconds before he groaned and wound his arms around her waist. He pulled her close, sliding one hand up to her neck and using the other to clutch her to him. He shivered as her nimble fingers danced upwards, one hand sliding up the right side of his neck to caress his scalp and the other slipping slowly down to rest over his rapidly beating heart.

He hadn't noticed when she'd done it, but Ginny had managed to entice his lips apart and slip her tongue inside. Harry clutched her tighter when he felt her tentatively stroke his tongue with her own. Up until then she had been in control but this was like a switch had been flipped and Harry pressed her back against the shelves, winding his hand into her hair so that he could pull her head back and press his own tongue into her mouth. When she moaned he thought he might lose all of his senses and he tore his lips away from hers. Ginny whimpered and slid her right hand up around his neck and across the scars there, to pull his head back down to hers.

Harry forced himself not to shrink from her touch. He was breathing shallowly, his eyes closed, his mouth still tender. Ginny pressed a chaste kiss to his swollen lips before she moved to press another to his jaw … and another to the sensitive spot behind his ear. Harry kept completely still as she moved lower to press feather light kisses on his neck, lingering on the scars that snaked their way down under his collar. His fingers tightened on her waist as she sucked gently on his neck and he struggled to hold himself upright. He turned his head to find her lips, desperately wanting to taste her again.

"Ginny," he breathed against her lips before he kissed her slowly and he felt her body press closer to his, her hand fisted his jumper as she clung to him; Harry knew that they were holding each other up now. A tiny hand trailed down to his back pocket and slipped inside, urging his hips towards hers. He spun them around, backing Ginny into the Potions bench and pressing against her urgently. Her leg curved around his as he slid his hands under her robes and her jersey, fumbling to find the soft, silky skin underneath. He buried his face in the sweet curve where her shoulder met her neck, breathing in her scent and kissing her collarbone softly before pulling back to look at her.

His breathing matched hers, ragged and out of control, and her chest heaved as she opened her eyes slowly to gaze at him. She was intoxicating, breathtaking, spellbinding. He wanted to give in, to forget the rest of the world, to forget their disagreements and make love to her.

Slowly he let go of her waist and withdrew his fingers from her hair. He rested his shaking hands on the bench on either side of her, unwilling to pull his hips away from hers. He groaned as she shifted under him restlessly and shook his head slightly.

"Not here," he whispered, bending to kiss her neck softly. "Not until we talk."

"So talk," Ginny said. Harry looked up at her, meeting her gaze for the first time since she'd started kissing him. He could tell that in this moment she would give him whatever he wanted. He raised one hand and caressed her cheek softly. She held his gaze resolutely.

"Not here," he repeated. "Not yet. I need … I need to apologise and I need to tell you something." Ginny searched his face before looking away, staring at the floor.

"If … if you don't want to any more, just tell me, Harry," she sighed. "Don't drag things out."

"Don't want to what?"

"Be with me," Ginny whispered.

"I am with you," Harry said, bending to press a kiss to her neck.

"Where have you been then?" Ginny asked, her voice harsh. Harry stilled, breathing in the scent of her hair, his lips hovering above her skin. "If you've been with me, why have I been all alone?"

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I just … I need to …" He trailed off, looking into her brown eyes. They were full of confusion and hurt.

"So, like I said," Ginny said, breaking the silence, "if you don't want me anymore, if you don't want to _sleep_ with me anymore, don't drag this out or pretend. Just tell me-"

"No!" Harry exclaimed. "No, I want to. What do you think I was just doing?"

"I don't know," Ginny whispered. "You haven't kissed me like that … touched me like that … for ages. You haven't let _me_ touch you the way I wanted to."

"I know," Harry replied, slipping his arms around Ginny's waist. "I'm sorry, I … let me explain." It sounded hollow and meaningless, even to him.

"I missed you so much," Ginny said. "I was angry with you. It was _your_ fault Ron sent me a Howler. But then you touched me and kissed me and I forgot how to be angry with you."

"I just …" Harry buried his face in her hair and whispered in her ear. "Please, Ginny. Come with me so I can explain."

"What about Slughorn? What about detention?" Ginny protested.

"I don't think being with the Head Boy counts as skipping detention," Harry said cheekily.

"The Head Boy is _in_ detention," Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

"Ah, but my detention was clearly … fake." Harry grinned at her. "Please, come with me?"

She eyed him for a moment before nodding jerkily as Harry released a breath he didn't realise he was holding. He pulled away from her reluctantly and straightened her robes, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips before sliding one hand down her arm and grasping her fingers in his own. He led her out of the Potions classroom.

"Where are we going?"

"My room," Harry said. "I, um … I need your help with something. I should have asked for it before now, but I didn't, because … well because I'm an idiot and a stupid git."

"Is it about the Children's Home?" Ginny asked as they climbed the staircases to Gryffindor Tower. By an unspoken agreement they both avoided the shortcut that would lead them past Gryffindor's room.

"No," answered Harry, pretending to ignore a pair of fourth years who stared at them so long they nearly fell off the steps as the staircases changed. "Not unless you've got a brilliant idea for someone to run it."

"Mrs Chumley," Ginny said promptly. Harry stopped right there on the fifth floor landing and turned to her. He remembered the letter he'd read and the fight Gilbert and Gerald had over giving up their magical home. Their mother had put a positive spin on what was probably a terribly dingy flat in a smog-ridden city and tried to make her jobless state sound like a mere hiccup. Harry could never replace their little cottage and he couldn't suddenly produce their father, but he could give the family a home and their mother a job.

"You're _brilliant_!" Harry cried.

"I know," Ginny said and Harry leaned down to kiss her. She held a finger up to his lips to stop him. "There are people watching." Harry shrugged as he looked around the various people scattered on the Grand Staircase.

"Let them," he said simply. "Then they can see that I'm completely in love with you." Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny, holding her carefully.

"Really?" she whispered, her eyes lowered to his shoulder.

"Yes," Harry answered quietly, his hands caressing her back. "Don't you believe me?" Ginny didn't answer him straight away and Harry could feel his heart start beating erratically as it sank in his chest. Eventually she lifted her gaze to his.

"I thought maybe you … changed your mind," she said tentatively. "After …" Her face went pink as she trailed off. Harry shook his head wordlessly.

"You pulled away," Ginny said. She sounded incredibly bereft. "You didn't want me to touch you." Harry buried his face in her hair.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he murmured. Harry lifted his head and gazed at Ginny. She was looking at him solemnly, biting her bottom lip.

"I know I'm not very curvy," she blurted. Her face was going redder and she seemed embarrassed to admit it. "I just-"

"It's got nothing to do with you!" Harry cut her off vehemently. "You're wonderful. You look wonderful, you feel wonderful, you smell wonderful, you taste wonderful." Ginny giggled nervously. Harry brought one hand up to caress her cheek. "I … I was just scared. I don't want to talk about it here. I need to show you something. Come with me?"

"Okay," Ginny answered quietly. Harry clasped her hand again and led the way up the stairs.

When they scrambled through the portrait hole Harry pointedly ignored Neville and Hermione as they pretended not to watch them from their table near the entrance. He strode purposefully across the room and up the stairs, Ginny's hand in his, an unnatural hush falling over the room. An outbreak of giggling wafted up the stairs after them.

Harry opened the door to his dorm and ushered Ginny inside. Liberty was still perched atop his four-poster and she opened one eye as he shut the door with a click. The owl flew down to Ginny and landed on her shoulder, pecking her ear gently before fluttering over to Harry and settling once more on his left shoulder. Harry hissed in pain and Liberty squawked and flew back to the top of the bed. Harry clutched at his shoulder, gritting his teeth.

"What's wrong with your shoulder, Harry?" Ginny asked. Harry shook his head, breathing slowly while the pain diminished.

"Tell you in a minute," he said shortly, turning to Liberty and holding an arm out. "Here, girl, I'm sorry. Come back down." Liberty eyed him warily. Harry kept eye contact with Liberty but spoke to Ginny. "Can you get some owl treats from Neville's drawer, there?"

"Neville's?" Ginny wrinkled her nose as she ventured further into the room. Harry gestured in the direction of Neville's bed.

"The one with all the plants around it," he said. "He's got owl treats."

"Haven't you got any?" Ginny asked as she rummaged through Neville's top drawer.

"No," Harry said shortly. Ginny didn't press him further but handed him a few owl treats. Harry held them out to Liberty, who eventually flew down to his outstretched arm. Harry stroked her softly for a moment before he carried her to the window and opened it. "Go hunting, girl." Liberty hopped onto the windowsill, stretched her wings and flew off.

Harry watched her fly away, hoping he wasn't too late to build a relationship with the little owl. He closed the window with a soft click and turned to see that Ginny had taken off her Quidditch practice robes and thrown them carelessly on his trunk. She was sitting on the edge of his bed dressed in the jersey and a pair of old trousers that looked like they might once have been Ron's. Her boots were in a heap on the floor and her stockinged feet tapped an irregular rhythm on the floor. She watched him silently, expectantly and Harry felt an unmistakable urge to put off what he'd brought her up here to show her. He crossed the room swiftly and rummaged in his nightstand for a quill and some parchment before swiping a bottle of Neville's ink. He sat gingerly on the bed next to Ginny.

"Um, will you help me write a letter to Mrs Chumley?" he asked. Ginny raised an eyebrow and nodded. They both knew that wasn't why they were there but neither of them apparently had the courage to point it out.

Harry deliberated over the letter, writing slowly and neatly. He told himself it was to make a good impression but the irritated skin on his shoulder mocked him, reminding him he was drawing out the inevitable. He finished the letter, asking Mrs Chumley to be the resident carer at Grimmauld Place and if she could start before Christmas.

"I know she's not magical but … with Kreacher …" Harry trailed off as he folded the letter and placed it on his nightstand. "If Liberty doesn't come back I'll take that to the Owlery."

"Why don't you have any owl treats for her?" Ginny asked suddenly. Harry shrugged and turned away. They sat in silence for a few moments before Ginny spoke. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Harry looked up at her. She was sitting cross-legged at the end of his bed, leaning against one of the posts and playing idly with a loose thread on his counterpane. He didn't know how to begin. The long, awkward silence stretched in front of them.

"How's Teddy?" Ginny asked softly.

"He's great," Harry said, grateful to her for filling the awkward silence. "He likes to copy your mum; change his hair and his eyes."

"You saw mum too?"

"Yeah, I think Andromeda sent for her," Harry said wryly. "She tried to feed me cake and when I didn't eat it, she took me home and tried to feed me treacle tart."

"It's not like you to pass up treacle tart," Ginny said with a smile.

"Well … I ate it eventually," Harry confessed. Ginny laughed softly. Harry continued. "Fleur and George weren't there. It is very weird to sit at the table with your parents while they talk about the price of strawberries."

"Strawberries aren't in season."

"Well, exactly," said Harry. "That's why they are so expensive and how come the apples in storage will have to do for the pies tomorrow instead of strawberry tarts." Ginny chuckled.

"I didn't think you'd be back until tomorrow." Ginny looked back at the stray thread on the counterpane. "You're never back on Saturday."

"What do you mean?"

"When you leave on Friday," Ginny explained. "I know I'll have to amuse myself the next day and … Hermione studies a lot and Luna is, um, trying to seduce Neville."

"Is she … ah, succeeding?" Harry asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer but feeling strangely compelled to ask.

"I don't think so," Ginny said with a grin. "He's very attentive and I think he genuinely likes her, but his heart isn't really in it. Luna doesn't mind, she says he's an excellent kisser and Hannah will really appreciate all the effort." Harry snorted. Ginny smoothed the counterpane beneath her fingers.

"I'm not here for you very much, am I?" Harry asked her.

"It's not that …" Ginny sighed and looked towards the window. "Remember before? When every spare minute we had, and some we didn't, we used to go somewhere … somewhere away from Ron and away from Hermione and her study schedule? When all the spare time in the world was for you and me?"

"And now every spare minute I have is for someone else," Harry said dully.

"No, that's not it," Ginny said with a hint of a smile. "It's just now that you aren't stuck at Hogwarts and I am, I don't know– I sort of feel trapped. Like I have to find something to do and Colin's gone and Demelza's changed and Audrey Hamilton-Smythe is just using me to get away from Seamus. I tried to hide from her the other day – in the Library. Who hides from a Ravenclaw in the_ Library_?" Harry laughed.

"You don't like her much?"

"Oh, she irritates me." Ginny scowled. "Not a single hair out of place, peaches and cream smooth skin – I bet she uses WonderWitch products – and perfectly straight teeth. Hermione told me she must be Muggleborn and had ordothiticks."

"Orthodontics."

"So I asked Felicia Smart," Ginny paused and giggled. "Can you imagine being in Ravenclaw with that last name? I asked her what she thought and she reckons Audrey has this big, old, metal thing full of wires that she sticks in her mouth at night. Hermione said it's a lot less painful to let Malfoy to hit you with a jinx and have Madam Pomfrey fix it."

"I'm sorry I haven't been here for you," Harry muttered.

"I know, you've stuck me with Audrey, the mouth," Ginny grinned at him, letting him know she didn't really mean it. "It's not just her orthoticks, she talks! She never stops. So I always make plans so I have an excuse or she would pin me down all afternoon."

"And what was today's excuse?" Harry asked with a grin.

"I was planning to spend the afternoon researching how to make a Howler."

"And now?"

"And now … well I still really want to send Ron a Howler," Ginny scowled. "I bet Bill helped him with that."

"I can help you if you want," Harry offered.

"He's a git," Ginny burst out. "He doesn't know anything! He just decided from miles away to send me a _Howler_ of all things! I bet he hoped it'd turn up in the Great Hall the way his did when you two flew the car to school! Well, it wasn't far off.

"Did you know it turned up in the Entrance Hall? Practically the whole school heard my brother yelling at me not to break _your_ heart. Did he stop to think maybe it was _my_ heart that was getting broken?"

Harry winced. Ginny ploughed on.

"So apparently I am insane and deaf and _he_ is going to disown _me_ if I don't fix it. Did he stop to think maybe _I_ didn't think _I_ was the one who had anything to fix? Oh no, Ron's on _your_ side." Ginny's sarcasm level was rising. "I don't know why I'm so surprised, he always has been. Honestly he would think you're his brother and I am the evil witch trying to seduce you away from his family and corrupt you!"

"Not all the time," Harry ventured when she paused for a breath.

"It's none of his business anyway," Ginny said, ignoring Harry. "It's nobody's business and everybody thinks it _is_ their business and they keep sticking their noses in! Did you know that before we left for Hogwarts Dad gave me a little talk about waiting for the right time? And then Mum gave me tips on how to avoid pregnancy. I mean, no offence, but she's not the most qualified witch to be giving me that sort of advice!"Harry stifled a snort.

"It's not funny!"

"Yes it is," Harry argued. Ginny smiled.

"Maybe a little," she allowed.

"Look," Harry took a deep breath, "I've been really stupid and I owe you an apology and an explanation." Ginny chewed her bottom lip and looked at him solemnly. Harry didn't know where to start.

"If you're regretting it-"

"No!" Harry burst out. "I told you that." He ran a hand through his hair wondering how to start.

"I don't," Ginny said so softly he nearly missed it. She had turned away and swung her legs off the side of the bed and was swinging them slowly. Harry scrambled off the bed and knelt in front of her.

"Ginny," he said urgently, "I don't regret being with you."

"Was it too soon?" Ginny asked. "Do you want to stop? It's a big change and maybe we weren't ready. Well I'm pretty sure I was ready, but it's okay if you weren't ready." Ginny was blushing and chewing on her bottom lip as if trying to stop herself from blurting out anything else. Harry shook his head.

"I was ready," he said. Without thinking about it he pulled his jumper over his head.

"I thought you wanted to talk first?" Ginny asked, bemused, as he reached for the bottom of his long sleeved sweatshirt. Harry said nothing and pulled his shirt over his head.

He closed his eyes kneeling on the cold stone floor in front of her. The cool air raised goose bumps on his exposed skin. He heard Ginny gasp a little and then delicate fingers reached out to his shoulder. He shivered, but not from the cold.

"I didn't know it was this bad," Ginny said softly, running her fingers gently over his shoulder. "It's no wonder Liberty landing on your shoulder wasn't exactly welcome. I thought you'd been using the ointment on it?"

"I can't reach everywhere," Harry said softly, forcing himself to remain still as her fingers trailed down his arm, tracing the red welts.

"You could have asked me," Ginny said. Harry shook his head.

"I didn't want you to see them."

"I don't care about your scars." Ginny's voice was so full of reproach that Harry couldn't open his eyes and look at her.

"I didn't want you to think it was your fault," Harry whispered.

"How is a rabid Quintaped my fault?" Ginny asked.

"No … they're worse because …" Harry swallowed heavily. "I shouldn't have played Seeker." He felt Ginny sink down onto the floor in front of him. Small hands grasped his face, stroking gently.

"Oh, Harry …"

"I didn't want you to blame yourself," Harry explained desperately, opening his eyes to look into hers. "It's not because I didn't want you anymore, it's just that everyone told me I shouldn't play and I know they were right; but I wanted you to have the best chance and that's why I said it was great that you were practicing so hard.

"Hermione said you probably thought I was trying to push you away because I told you that planning for your future was a great idea. I just … I didn't mean that _you_ had to plan it because I didn't want to be a part of it. I just know how much you want this and I know your mum thinks it's not really important, but it is and I just want to be supportive and-"

"Harry-"

"It's not because I don't want you any more," Harry continued, ignoring her interruption and grasping her hands in his, "because I do. In fact I probably want you more than is reasonably healthy. Ron should be sending _me_ Howlers! He would if he knew what was going through my head right now. But I couldn't ask you to help me with the ointment because then you'd see and then you'd know and I didn't want you to blame yourself-"

"I did anyway," Ginny interrupted forcefully. "You looked dreadful after the game and Mum was chewing my ear off about it. I felt so guilty. Then when you didn't want me to touch you and you wouldn't let me even see your arm … I thought you blamed me."

"No, I didn't blame you!"

"Then I heard that idiot McLaggen – how can a family have more than one git that foul?" Ginny scowled.

"He was talking out his arse," Harry grumbled.

"I know," Ginny sighed. "Hermione tried to talk to me about it but …" She trailed off and shrugged.

"With me being a stupid git, what were you supposed to think?" Harry asked softly. He reached up and cupped her cheek. "I should have trusted you. I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Ginny whispered. She stared at him for a moment, "me too."

Harry could stand it no longer. He pulled her face towards him and pressed a kiss to her lips. She responded immediately, wrapping her arms around his neck and shuffling towards him so that she was practically sitting in his lap. Her soft lips moved under his as he slid his fingers into her hair. Ginny slid her arms down his back and Harry trailed soft, wet kisses down her neck. One hand strayed to her belly and slid easily under her jersey. As he touched Ginny's stomach it rumbled loudly and Harry smiled into her neck.

"Um … you squashed my breakfast," Ginny said.

"Wanna go to the kitchens?" Harry asked her, his hand splayed across her stomach. "And after that, can we go for a walk, if you like. I've got lots of spare minutes today and I want to spend them all with you."

"I'd like that," Ginny replied softly.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39. Surprises**

The cold November days gave way to even colder December days. Mrs Chumley replied to Harry's letter quickly, accepting the position in the new Children's Home and Harry finished the paperwork and sent it in to the Ministry. It was the first Friday in December when Harry had explained that the orphaned students had somewhere to go for the Christmas holidays. Professor McGonagall had thrown her arms around him in a very uncharacteristic display.

"You are a wonderful, wonderful young man," the professor had mumbled into his shoulder before patting him on the back and turning away to wipe her eyes surreptitiously.

"Um, Professor, I was sort of wondering …"

"Yes, Mr Potter?" Professor McGonagall smiled warmly at him.

"I was wondering ... I've got a bit of business to finalise and I need to speak to Molly, er, Mrs Weasley and …" Harry trailed off not sure to ask for what he wanted.

"Miss Weasley could use some time with her mother," Professor McGonagall said briskly. "I think, Mr Potter, it would be a good idea if she accompanied you this weekend."

"Thank you."

"I expect you both back before tea on Sunday," Professor McGonagall said before turning back to the paperwork on her desk. "I'll let our students know they have a … home."

Harry slipped out of the headmistress's office and bounded down the spiral staircase, in a hurry to tell Ginny she could come home with him for the weekend. Ginny had been helping him with his ointment but things just weren't the same as they had been.

After Harry and Ginny had worked things out the previous weekend and gone to the Quidditch match to watch Ravenclaw soundly thrash Hufflepuff, they had gone for a walk. After a quick afternoon tea with Hagrid they had played with Dora for a while before being drawn into a rather rowdy game of Monopoly in the common room. They hadn't really been alone or returned to the kind of urgency that they had experienced in the Potions classroom. It was as if things were … delicate.

To everyone else Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley looked and behaved like any other young couple. They held hands in the corridors between classes, gave chaste goodbye kisses outside classrooms when they had to part and studied together in the library or the common room. They sat together during meals and took walks down by the lake, rugged up against the winter chill.

But it felt different to Harry. At some place inside there was a wall that they pretended wasn't really there. The wall stopped them talking about their future. Once they had always talked about the future; made plans and shared dreams. Now they talked carefully about the here and now; schoolwork, the looming completion of the Children's Home and what Hermione could possibly be hiding. The wall stopped their hands. Once they had let their hands and mouths wander freely, giving and receiving affection openly, searching for places to be alone. Now they caressed tentatively, hesitantly; sitting with their friends, avoiding the dark, secret places the castle had to offer. There hadn't been anything but chaste goodbye kisses and brief goodnight kisses.

It wasn't that Harry didn't want to resume their physical relationship he just didn't know how to get over the wall. Despite the initial urgent feelings, their misunderstanding had put up barriers to intimacy. Most of all Harry missed the feeling that Ginny Weasley was his future. He wondered if he should talk to Arthur, but the idea of telling Arthur he and Ginny had been intimate wasn't very appealing. Harry hoped Ginny would choose to talk to her mother and that would work.

Harry arrived back at the common room to find Ginny and Dean sprawled on the hearth rug, scowling over their Muggle Studies assignment.

"I'm telling you, Ginny, this _is_ a really popular story," Dean said exasperatedly. "They made it into a movie and everything."

"It's a load of rubbish," Ginny said hotly.

"Well, I know it's not realistic-"

"Understatement," Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

"That's the _point_," Dean bellowed suddenly. "It's not supposed to be realistic!"

"There's no need to shout at me," Ginny said, glaring at him.

"What story are you analysing?" Harry asked flopping onto the nearby couch. The Muggle Studies assignment was to take a Muggle produced story or conception about witches and compare it with the reality. Muggleborn students or those with a Muggle parent had been paired up with purebloods to complete the essay. To her dismay, Hermione had been paired with Draco Malfoy. Harry had been relieved to find himself partnering Neville Longbottom and they'd chosen an odd-looking book about a school for witches full of illustrations of black pointed hats and broomsticks.

"The Wizard of … Oz," said Ginny, squinting at the parchment. "I mean the wizard isn't even a real wizard so what's the point?"

"That's the point of the story," Harry answered absently as Arnold the Pygmy Puff rolled off the arm of the chair and into his lap.

"See," Dean said smugly. "Harry gets it." Ginny scowled and flipped the book open, slapping it on the floor as if it had personally offended her.

"Every kid loved that movie," Dean said, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling, hands clasped behind his head. "We used to get to stay up and watch it when it came on TV, then Mum bought us the video. Just about wore that tape out. How many times did you see the movie, Harry?"

"Just once," Harry answered quietly, not wanting to add that he'd had to hide behind the couch and watch it between the pieces of furniture. When Uncle Vernon had found him there at the end of it Harry had been locked back in the cupboard and missed at least two meals. The movie had never been allowed on again.

Ginny looked up at him, gazing intently and Harry developed a sudden and intense interest in Arnold. Dean did not appear to notice anything amiss.

"See that's the point, Ginny," Dean continued. "The real magic didn't come from the wizard; Dorothy found the real magic where there were people who loved her."

Ginny muttered something under her breath but ceased arguing. Harry glowered at Dean who looked smug.

"So we should be able to knock this over this weekend," Dean said.

"Well actually …" Harry stopped, not wanting to discuss his plans – their plans – in front of Dean.

"Perhaps I already have plans, Dean," Ginny said irritably.

"Oh, come on." Dean rolled his eyes. "You never do anything but play Quidditch and study." Ginny glared at him before she shoved some of the parchment and a quill in her bag. She stood up and dropped the novel onto Dean's stomach as she stalked over and scooped Arnold out of Harry's grasp.

"Ginny …" Harry leapt out of his seat as she strode to the girls' staircase. Ginny ignored him and took the stairs two at a time. Harry watched her disappear from sight and then turned to Dean who shrugged.

"Bit tetchy, isn't she?"

"You idiot," Harry hissed.

"Reckon she could use a good shag," Dean continued blithely. "Get rid of some of that tension. I'm sure you're up for it-"

"Shut up," Harry growled.

"Oh maybe you could both use-" Dean never finished his sentence because Harry flicked a Silencing charm at him as he stalked towards the boys' dormitory staircase.

Harry was in the middle of throwing his clothes for the weekend into a bag when the door creaked open slowly and Ginny sidled inside. She shut the door with a quiet click and stood uncertainly at the door.

"Are you going away this weekend?" Ginny asked. Harry heard the accusation in her voice. He stopped abruptly.

"I was going to speak to you about that before Dean interrupted," Harry began. Ginny sighed and turned around, one hand on the doorknob.

"I'll see you when you get back," she said as she pulled the door open. Harry leapt across the room hurriedly. He realised that if he didn't speed up his explanation he would be in all sorts of strife. He reached the door just before she slipped around it and managed to get one hand out to slam it shut. The doorknob jerked out of Ginny's hand and Harry leaned on the door, his heart beating rapidly.

Ginny shrank away from him and Harry cursed inwardly.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to startle you." Ginny shook her head slightly.

"It's okay I just … I don't like being trapped."

"Sorry." Harry pulled his hand away from the door as if scalded.

"Goyle used to do that when I would leave a detention," Ginny said softly. "He used to … insinuate things."

"Like what?" Harry's eyes narrowed.

"I think he was sexually confused," Ginny replied with a smirk. Harry raised an eyebrow. "He could never seem to remember that I wasn't sexually interested in servicing members of Slytherin house."

"He must have been confused, I thought he was …" Harry waved a hand loosely in the air.

"He was soliciting for other people," Ginny admitted quietly. "He would usually offer a reprieve from Cruciatus in return for … sexual favours. I never took him up on it so he'd always try again at the end of it. Neville would usually force the door back open and he'd back off. When you slammed the door it just reminded me." Ginny shrugged and looked at the floor.

"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly.

"S'okay," Ginny mumbled. Harry stood uncertainly for a moment. He had an insane urge to punch Goyle's face in. Sensing that Ginny didn't want to dwell on the memory, Harry swallowed heavily and forced himself to talk about something else.

"I was going to say, um … before, downstairs, I was going to say that McGonagall said you could come with me this weekend," Harry stammered. Ginny looked up at him.

"Really?" she asked incredulously. "You want me to come?" Harry nodded.

"Of course I do," he said. "I have a couple things to do, er, for the Children's Home. I was hoping you'd come to Grimmauld Place with me." Ginny wrinkled her nose. Harry hastily added, "If you don't want to that's fine."

"No, no I'd like to," Ginny assured him. "It's just … I never liked that place."

"Me either," Harry admitted. "We stayed there last year and I … it was better but I think I'm glad I found a use for it apart from living in it."

"Were you going to live there?" Ginny asked him. Harry shrugged.

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "I haven't given a lot of thought to where we'd live, it's just, if you have a house … isn't that what you do with it, usually?" Ginny shrugged and looked at the floor again. Harry continued. "I did think perhaps we could get somewhere big enough to play Quidditch."

Ginny looked up at him, her expression unreadable, and Harry felt as though he could reach out and touch the wall between them. Angrily he began to hurl words at it, battering at it and determined to hammer at it until it crumbled.

"Because I want to live in a house in the country," he started. Ginny's eyes went wide as Harry began waving his arms wildly. "With you. I don't want to live in some house in the middle of London, miles from your family. I want room for our children to grow up. Where they can run and play. Maybe we can have one of those cottages where those vines grow all over it, with one of those little attic rooms and a vegetable patch.

"I want room for Teddy to stay over and a Quidditch pitch for you to practice on so you can follow your dreams and so I can beat Charlie to the Snitch. I want it to have a kitchen with mismatched chairs around a big old table and a front porch where we can sit and watch the sun go down. And it should have one room where Ron can beat me at chess and it'll have a big old squashy armchair in the corner where Hermione likes to read and a basket for Dora in the corner and … and a big fluffy rug where we can make love in front of the fire."

Ginny stared at him and Harry swallowed.

"I'm tired of pretending I don't want that," Harry explained. "All I want is a place for me and you and our family."

"Why would you pretend you don't want that?" Ginny asked.

"Because … it's …" Harry stopped, unable to express what he meant. If he admitted wanting to spend the rest of his life with Ginny, even though he knew it was undeniably true, he'd be admitting that he wanted to marry her and while he knew that – had even said that – the picture of his life was somehow more explicit than mere words. If her family knew that he had them pictured in a cosy little house with children and a rug in front of the fire for making love on, it meant he was taking Ginny away, making her his. And if he admitted he wanted something for himself it meant being selfish, because Harry Potter wasn't allowed to have anything that was just for him.

"Which part of the house lets you follow your dreams?" Ginny asked quietly as she laid one hand on his chest. Harry's heart beat wildly in his chest at the unexpected contact. He searched her eyes, seeing them without the cloud of sorrow and doubt that had haunted them for the past few weeks.

"There's a space," Harry whispered. "Under the stairs and it's just a space and no one has to live there and there's no cupboard, just space. And that space is as full of as much love as the rest of the house and all the love in the house just fills it up until there's no room for it and it spills out all the windows and all the doors."

Ginny stood quietly as a tear rolled down her cheek. Harry reached up and brushed it away with his thumb.

"And it's because you're there," Harry said quietly. Ginny looked up at him solemnly. "When you're there … it's home." And then he said the three words that obliterated the rest of the wall, smashing it to dust. "I love you."

And Ginny kissed him; really kissed him. Her arms snaked their way around his waist and her body moulded to his. Harry could feel her fingers clutching at his back and her thighs pressing against his own. He wound his fingers into her hair and deepened the kiss fervently. It felt amazing and exhilarating; like he could do just about anything. Ginny was back in his arms and he didn't ever want to let her go.

Harry was dimly aware that they were in a room with his bed in it and there's no telling where they might have ended up if Donald Smythe and Sebastian Hornblower hadn't walked in.

"You'd think all his Christmasses had come at once!" Sebastian exclaimed as he pushed the door open.

"Well, it is nearly Christmas … poor kid deserves a break," Donald replied. "Oh! Er, sorry Harry …"

"Who deserves a break?" Ginny asked, a smile on her face and her body still pressed against Harry's. He was grateful that she hadn't moved. Harry had no desire to advertise his arousal to anyone – apart from Ginny.

"Gilbert," answered Sebastian, looking a little self-conscious. Harry didn't doubt he looked a bit flushed and was probably wearing a silly grin but he felt too happy to care about the sensibilities of Sebastian Hornblower. The general consensus was that Sebastian was wound so tightly he could spontaneously combust at any moment.

"He got an Owl," Donald explained, throwing himself on Ron's bed. "I think it was from his mum, a new house or something. I heard the other day they had to move and he was really upset about it. I guess this house is better than the other one." Harry smiled, wondering how Gerald had taken the same news.

"I'd better go," Ginny said softly.

"If you pack now, we can be home in time for tea," Harry said. He pulled her towards him and bent to press a soft kiss to her lips. Ginny wriggled against him and giggled slightly before slipping form his grasp and out the door. Harry shifted uncomfortably and turned to find Donald with a wide grin on his face. Harry, his face flaming, concentrated on packing for the weekend at the Burrow.

"Say, Harry," Sebastian began. He stopped when Harry looked up.

"What is it?" Harry asked, aware that he rarely spoke to these two boys. Between all his concerns and the fact that they were actually in Ginny's year he didn't give them much thought.

"D'you think it's really over?" Sebastian asked, standing in the middle of the room, twisting his hands together nervously.

"Is what really over?" Harry asked.

"Like … are all the Death Eaters really gone?"

Harry looked up, startled at the question. Everyone had seemed terribly careful not to talk about the events of the past year, and Voldemort in particular, since he'd taken Salbadar Limuson out with such force on the first day of classes. Sebastian hurried on.

"I know You-Know-Who is dead-"

"Voldemort," Harry interrupted harshly. Sebastian gulped. "Saying his name doesn't do anything anymore."

"Um … yeah," Sebastian looked terribly uncomfortable but he took a deep breath and kept going. "It's just last time he was gone my dad reckons all his supporters weren't captured and they went and got new ones, too." Sebastian shuffled nervously. "D'you think it's the same? D'you think … are they still out there?"

"Yeah …" Harry nodded slowly. "Not necessarily Death Eaters exactly, but there's probably always going to be Dark Wizards." Sebastian took a deep breath.

"'Cause I think Professor Thistlewaite is one," he said.

"Professor Thistlewaite is a Death Eater?" Harry asked blankly.

"I can't believe you told him your insane theory," Donald said, rolling his eyes. "Sorry, Harry I tried to talk him out of it, but …" Donald trailed off, shrugging.

"He feels Dark," Sebastian insisted, turning to Donald and glaring at him. "I'm not insane."

"I don't know what you're seeing," Donald said. "If you ask me, Professor Fiesche is more sinister than that nervous, twittery, old fool."

"Professor Fiesche is an Auror!" Sebastian exclaimed.

"Still looks Dark," Donald muttered.

"Look, I'm sure no one in the castle is a Dark Wizard," Harry said as he threw a few more socks into his bag. "If you really have a concern about someone you should speak to the Headmistress."

"But you're Harry Potter," Sebastian said. Harry turned to look at him.

"Um …"

"Bit more reliable than some old woman," Donald explained with a grin. Harry was torn between the novelty of being called reliable and need to tear strips off them for the attitude towards Professor McGonagall.

"She's been fighting Dark Wizards since before you were born," he said coldly as he swung his bag over his shoulder. "Look, I know you mean well but they are just new teachers. You'll get used to them." He smiled at them, hoped he looked reassuring and strode out the door. He was in a hurry to meet Ginny; if they hurried they could be at the Burrow before tea.

*************

"Tell me again why we didn't go straight home?" Ginny muttered as George searched frantically through the pile of parchment on his desk.

"Because we need to go to the bank," Harry explained with a smirk.

"And going to the _bank_ involves coming to listen to George while he reads us love notes?" Ginny asked incredulously.

"Aha!" exclaimed George, brandishing a piece of pink parchment. He bounded towards them. "_This_ is the one that finally got her to let me come over!"

"Probably because she wanted you to shut up …" George didn't hear her, he was too busy straightening the pink parchment.

"This is the rough copy of course; she probably keeps her copy under her pillow," George said and cleared his throat. "_Upon my despair my heart beats. I call for you, but you're gone. My heart and my eyes weep until you come back to me. Only sorrow because you are gone. Eyes like fire and hair like silk and all around is home."_

"Promise me that you will never write me poetry," Ginny said. Harry grinned at her.

"Harry!" George exclaimed suddenly, oblivious to his sister's grimace. "You've got to help me, you're a bloke. We're going out tonight. The other night she finally agreed to come for a drink – just one – and we decided we were both so miserable, couldn't get any worse. We had the best time. The whole time she liked me, just … it was hard, y'know? I need to do my hair-"

"And you've picked me for this?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Well, clothes then," George continued, waving a hand airily. "Where should we go? Dinner? Dancing? What about one of those Muggle movings? That'd be good, yeah?"

"George, as flattered as I am," Harry said, "I really think you have had just a little more experience with dating and things than me-"

"Should I take her flowers?" George pressed.

"The bank," Harry said weakly.

"Come on, you want me to ask Percy?" George asked. "Ron and Bill are still in Egypt and Charlie's in Romania and …" The unsaid end of the sentence hung heavily in the air.

"I'm … just …" Harry stopped frustrated not at all sure how to admit that he was rubbish with romance in front of his girlfriend.

"Fine, I'll give you tips then," George said, grinning.

"Oh, I can go to the bank, no problem," said Ginny, with a sickly sweet smile, holding out her hand. Harry glowered at her but fished his Gringotts key out of his pocket, slapping it into her hand with a growl.

"Thanks Ginny," he said through gritted teeth. She kissed him on the cheek and ran one hand down his chest, lingering on his waist and Harry shuddered.

"Any particular amount you'd like me to withdraw?" she asked, sliding the hand around his back and down.

"No," Harry said quietly, sliding his arms around her. "Get whatever you need and a few extra Galleons for treats at Hogsmeade next weekend."

"What I need?" Ginny looked up at him, confusion on her face. Harry placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"For Christmas shopping," he said, "or, um … whatever."

"You want me to buy you a Christmas present?"

"No!" Harry shook his head fiercely. "I thought you'd want to buy things for your family and there's more range here in London than in Hogsmeade – oh we could get your dad something in Muggle London, so get some converted to pounds, yeah?"

"But, I couldn't-"

"Couldn't what?" Harry pulled her closer, daring her to say it, that she couldn't use his money. It had been their vault for months now and she'd never asked for a single thing, not spent a single Knut since they bought school supplies and she'd shyly added a pair of winter gloves and an array of hair clasps to the pile of new school robes he'd insisted she buy.

Ginny bit her bottom lip and stared up at Harry. He could see the indecision on her face and he wondered what exactly she was trying to decide.

"Okay," Ginny answered quietly, reaching up to press a kiss to his jaw. Harry turned his head and captured her lips with his own.

"Good," he breathed when he broke the kiss. His hands trailed up and down her back. "I'll see you back here when you're done?" Ginny nodded and reached up to kiss him again.

"All right, all right!" George exclaimed. Harry jerked away guiltily and Ginny laughed. George shook his head ruefully. "I'm your biggest fan, Potter, but please cease playing hockey with her tonsils in the shop. I had to turn poor Fred away. It's not right to subject that display to someone who can't escape!" Harry glanced at the plaster statue and the picture of Fred that always sat on the counter. They faced the back wall.

"I won't be long," Ginny said as she slipped out of Harry's grasp. Harry watched her go and sighed heavily. His desire was back, stronger than ever, and he couldn't help but wonder how he could get her alone for more than five minutes.

"Need the use of the upstairs bedroom, Harry?" George asked with a leer. Harry jumped and whirled away from the window."

"No!" he cried. "What for? What would we … us, erm, I … do up there?" George laughed and Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"So, going all right with Ginny then?" George leaned on the counter. Harry just nodded. The uncomfortable silence settled over the shop and Harry became intensely interested in the toe of his shoe. George picked up a case of Skiving Snackboxes from the end of the counter and wandered over to stack them on a shelf.

"Bit behind on the stocking up with Ron gone," George said. Harry nodded and went over to help. The two of them worked in silence for a moment.

"Listen George," Harry said eventually. "Did you have something you wanted to talk to me about?"

"No," George looked up from the display of Canary Creams that he was straightening. "What makes you think that?"

"Every time one of you-"

"One of who?"

"Bill, Charlie, Percy …"

"Ah, the brothers grim."

"Funny," Harry said, not smiling. He took a deep breath. "Every time you get me alone it's because you want to talk to me about not breaking Ginny's heart. I just wondered what I did this time."

"Nah," George said quietly. "I know I have had my moments but … I'm not exactly opposed to you and Ginny, erm getting up to whatever it is you two like to get up to."

"We, ah-"

"Don't finish that."

"Right."

George fixed the already straight Canary Creams and began adjusting a display of shield hats. Harry eyed him carefully. Something wasn't right but he had no idea what it was.

"Fred was better at picking outfits than me," George said eventually. Harry didn't say anything, wondering if George would go on. It was the first time Harry had heard George talk about Fred since his death without being drunk, crying or shouting. George took a deep breath and picked up a hat, twirling it idly.

"We used to double date," George continued staring into space, eyes focused on nothing, probably seeing the past. "Fred would pick what we would wear. Nothing too much the same, but we matched, y'know? And he was pants at shining shoes so I used to do that, but he was better at doing hair. If I tried to do it myself that bit always used to stick up above my ears." George stopped for a moment and fingered the hair above his ear before he tugged slightly on the hair that covered the hole where his missing ear was.

"Even with one ear missing it still sticks up," George continued. "Like it doesn't care that the ear's missing. Fred knew how to make it cover up the missing ear though. He always used to fix that for me and I'd iron our shirts the old fashioned way because we were both rubbish at ironing charms.

"He always knew if we should bring flowers and … Angelina likes daisies. He used to bring her daisies. We stopped going on double dates with her. He used to go by himself. But I'd still iron his shirt and he'd check my hair for me before he left."

Harry didn't know what to say. George put the hat down and wandered to the door and flipped the sign on it to 'Closed.' Without warning George sank down onto the floor, leaning against the door, drawing his knees up to his chest.

"I don't know how to be alone," he said. "When Ron's here it's … I can do it. The days he's at Hogwarts are really, really hard. Percy was here yesterday. He stayed nearly all day. I nearly cried when he left and I locked up early and went home. I think Mum thought I was nutters when I started chopping vegetables for her. She sent me out to get the eggs and … I made Fleur go with me. Harry, I think I'm going nuts."

Harry sank down onto the floor next to George. They sat in silence for a moment before Harry spoke.

"What are you going to wear tonight?" he asked. "If you're going to take daisies, you don't want anything … white, I guess." George turned to look at him and it was then Harry noticed the tears filling George's eyes.

"Ginny's pretty good with hair," Harry added quietly. George nodded silently and let the tears fall and Harry put an arm around his shoulders and held him while he cried.

They were still sitting like that when Ginny came back. Harry jumped up to open the door for her and George grinned at her a bit sadly.

"Need to go buy some flowers," he explained as he shoved his hands in his pockets and slipped out the door. "Be back in a bit." Harry closed the door after him, watching as he walked down the street, head bowed and shoulders hunched against the cold.

"Is he all right?" Ginny asked softly. Harry turned around and shrugged.

"Misses Fred," he said. Ginny turned to watch George disappear between two witches at the far end of the Alley. Harry slid an arm around her shoulders. "He's getting there but Ron being away ... he's lonely." Ginny laid her head on Harry's chest and sighed.

Harry looked down at her. She was clutching a brown paper wrapped package. The paper was wrinkled and brittle looking and the string it was tied with still had dust clinging to it. The package was partially hidden by her cloak and it was torn on one corner, a thick piece of yellowing parchment poked out.

"What's that?" Harry asked nodding at the package. Ginny started almost guiltily and glanced at it quickly before looking up at him.

"I got, um, some Galleons and then I exchanged some for pounds, but I don't know if it was a good rate," she answered. Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

"That package is not full of pounds."

"Well … no," Ginny admitted. "I'm not exactly sure what's in the package, precisely."

"Where did you get it?"

"Your vault," she answered, looking at the floor.

"Not that I mind," Harry said, reaching out to tilt her chin up so that she was looking at him, "but why would you bring a tatty looking package out of _our_ vault?" He could tell that she didn't miss his emphasis. For an answer she slowly pulled the package out from under her cloak and turned it over. Scrawled across it were the words _Engagement, Christmas 1977_. Harry stared.

"I found it at the back of the vault," Ginny said. "If you go sort of past the piles of Galleons there's um, there's like a chest and some books and things back there." Harry took the package and turned it over in his hands.

"It's been there all this time?" he asked incredulously. Ginny nodded.

"I … there's a lot of things in the chest," she said. "I just brought that because I thought maybe there would be a wizarding picture of it. Like the one by your bed. I got distracted when I saw George; I meant to tell you straight away."

Harry strode to the counter of the shop, laying the package down and pulling at the string that bound it together. He peeled back the paper to reveal a piece of brightly coloured Christmas wrapping paper, several moving photographs and a squashed green bow. He reached out and picked up a picture of his parents, dressed the same as the engagement photograph from Dudley, the ring shining on his mother's hand as she waved it at the camera. His dad stood next to her proudly, one arm around her shoulders.

Passing the moving wizarding photograph to Ginny, Harry pulled the next photograph from the package. Tears stung his eyes as he looked at a crooked picture of his dad, his arm around a frail, white haired woman. They were standing with a man, who despite his advanced age, looked just like James Potter. A Christmas tree stood in the background and Harry's father was laughing merrily while waving and winking at the person taking the photograph. Ginny moved towards him and, seeing the photograph, she tucked herself against his side and wrapped an arm around his waist. Harry pulled her close, the photograph shaking in his other hand.

"Your grandparents," Ginny said softly. "There're some other things …"

"Where did it come from?" Harry asked. "How did it get there?" Ginny shrugged and the two of them stood gazing at the photograph until they heard George's keys jangling at the door.

Harry hastily shuffled the paper, bow and photographs together and wrapped them back in the paper before carefully slipping the package into his bag. Ginny eyed him momentarily but didn't say anything. Harry didn't feel like sharing it with George just then. He wasn't sure why. It might have been because he didn't want George seeing the photos but it could have been because George looked absolutely terrified as he stood in the middle of the shop, clutching a bunch of daises that he was squeezing so hard his knuckles were white.

"I hope you are planning on getting changed," Ginny told him lightly. "Because those daisies clash with the swirls on your robes."

"They do?" George asked, looking down at himself. Ginny nodded emphatically.

"Absolutely," she said. "Now, are we getting ready for this date upstairs or …?"

"Erm, flat's a bit of a mess …"

"Needs cleaning up then," Ginny said, skipping to the door that led to the upstairs flat.

"Haven't spent a lot of time there," George said. "It's empty." Ginny turned around.

"I know," she said quietly. A glint of mischief flickered across her face. "Are you going to raid his wardrobe or will I?" George threw back his head and laughed.

Harry followed the two of them upstairs. Within an hour Harry and Ginny had aired out the flat, cleaned the mess and debris in the living room and kitchen and scrubbed the bathroom. George was dressed in a purple shirt from Fred's wardrobe that Harry had ironed with an ancient iron Arthur had charmed when the twins had moved out of the Burrow.

"You're a bit domestic, Potter," George had smirked at him while he sat patiently as Ginny did his hair and Harry ironed his shirt. "Ginny said my shiny new bathroom is your doing." He raised an eyebrow at Harry who shrugged.

"And here I thought you were all typical and messy like all the other boys," Ginny teased Harry as she handed George a mirror.

"You've not seen the Muggles' house, dear Gin-Gin," George said, admiring his hair in the mirror. "Dreadfully sanitary, it was. Couldn't be a boy growing up there without learning a bit of domesticity. Of course that pig of a cousin of yours looked like he didn't know one end of a broom from the other. Still, I bet they never let him near a broomstick." George chuckled.

"I don't think Dudley's picked up a broom in his life," he said, shaking his head wryly. "When I came back from Hogwarts after first year Uncle Vernon looked at me funny every time I swept the kitchen after breakfast. I reckon he thought I was about to jump on it and fly away."

"Still … awfully clean, this bathroom," George said. Harry shifted uncomfortably. "I reckon you did more than your fair share of cleaning there." Harry didn't say anything. Ginny began to straighten the cushions on George's couch and didn't look at Harry. George watched Harry so closely he felt he was under a microscope.

Thankfully George let the subject drop, turning back to his uncharacteristic fretting over Angelina.

***********

Molly kept watching Harry. He squirmed uncomfortably. She'd been doing it all evening. When he and Ginny had arrived at the Burrow Molly had descended on her only daughter, fussing over Ginny and enveloping her in a hug. Harry had smiled at Molly's questioning glance, hoping he looked cheerful enough to reassure her. The packet of photographs and mementos was weighing on his mind and it made him a little distracted.

After tea they went into the sitting room. Fleur excused herself to go and write to Bill but Arthur dozed in a chair with the evening paper. Molly's knitting needles click-clacked constantly as she listened to her daughter talk about Hogwarts. Ginny was sitting so close to Harry on the couch that she was almost sitting in his lap. Harry amused himself by playing with Ginny's hair, watching the strands fall through his fingers.

"And your Defence classes are going well?" Molly asked during a lull in Ginny's chatter. Harry looked up as Ginny launched into a description of a duel Harry and Hermione had staged for the class that week where Hermione had almost won.

Harry smiled at Ginny and picked up the tiny hand that was resting on his thigh. He brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her palm. He smiled as he felt her fingers curl into his cheek. Harry noticed Molly gazing at him as he entwined his fingers with Ginny's and turned her hand over to brush a soft kiss across her knuckles. Molly smiled softly as she nodded at Ginny's description of Neville looking surprised that he'd actually stunned Dean.

"I mean, even after last year he gets caught off guard sometimes," Ginny said, shaking her head. "He's the best at dodging spells and his aim's pretty good now, too."

"Yeah but Dean's not a slouch himself," Harry interjected. "Being on the run is the perfect way to practice dodging." Harry wished he hadn't spoken when Molly looked at him sadly. He squirmed in his seat.

"Well, I wish you children weren't still thinking about dodging and defending," Molly said with a sniff. "It should be over."

"We're not children anymore," Ginny muttered. Molly sighed and nodded as though acknowledging the truth of the statement. Ginny continued. "Dean got caught anyway, didn't he? Doesn't seem like very good dodging to me!"

"We got caught by the same blokes," Harry said quietly.

"It was probably Ron's fault," Ginny grumbled mutinously. Her mother raised an eyebrow at Ginny's belligerent tone and Harry shook his head.

"It was mine, actually," he admitted. "You can't keep blaming Ron for everything."

"Yours?" Ginny asked sharply at the same time her mother asked what else she was blaming on Ron. Harry nodded.

"How did you end up captured?" Arthur asked suddenly. Harry was startled. He'd thought the older man was asleep but he'd obviously been aware enough to follow the conversation. Harry shifted uncomfortably, not used to direct questions about his activities last year. Until now the Weasleys had left the subject alone, taking what he said and not demanding anything else. He saw now the question in their eyes and realised they still knew precious little of what their youngest son had been up to in the previous year and he knew it must be hard for them not to know.

He imagined that if one of his children ran off with his best mate, whose face was on a wanted poster, for a whole year – then he'd have questions, too.

"Ron hasn't said?" Harry asked, stalling for time.

"He refuses to talk about it," Molly answered quietly. Harry stared into the crackling fire for a moment, wondering where to start. He could give the short version, he thought. He'd said 'Voldemort' and that was it, really, but he felt the weight of the packet of Christmas engagement photos still in the pocket of his robes. It was coming up to Christmas again and he had a strange and almost uncanny urge to unburden himself about the events of last Christmas. They had nothing to do with getting captured, not really; and Harry floundered in a sea of memories, not knowing what to say, only that he wanted to say something. Ginny squeezed his hand gently and he turned to look at her. She smiled at him and Harry knew it would be okay if he didn't say anything but that she wanted to know as well.

"He warned me," Harry blurted. "He knew that Voldemort had jinxed his own name but I said it anyway. I was too caught up in making my point."

"You never were afraid to say it like the rest of us," Arthur said gently.

"How did he know not to say it?" Molly asked. "We didn't hear from you, any of you. If we had …" Harry sighed. Admitting that Ron had been at Bill's over Christmas last year was probably going to get both Ron and Bill in trouble.

"We had a fight," he said. "The ah, the locket Horcrux was making us a little … well, we overheard Dean and Ted Tonks talking to some goblins about, um … Hogwarts and Hermione and I started thinking about how the sword could maybe destroy the locket; but I think Ron was sort of angry because I was concentrating on the sword, he thought I didn't care that, um …" Harry stopped and glanced at Ginny.

"Was this after we tried to steal the sword out of Snape's office?" she asked him. Harry nodded.

"We had a massive fight," Harry admitted. "He thought I didn't care that you were facing certain death in the Forbidden Forest as penance for your sword-stealing sins." Ginny snorted.

"It really was very foolish of you, dear," Molly said primly, her knitting needles moving furiously. "That forest isn't exactly safe. I don't know what Hagrid was thinking taking you on a detention in there."

"It was safer than the other detention options," Ginny said quietly. Molly blanched but kept knitting, her fingers a little shakier.

"That's what I said," Harry grumbled. "I don't know … it just degenerated into a fight. He said I didn't care that his family could be dead. And then I said he should go home to Mummy's cooking and he said it was all right for me cos my parents were … well …"

"Ron _said_ that?" Ginny gaped at him. Harry shrugged.

"_I_ told him to leave," he said quietly. "He would have stayed if I hadn't yelled at him to go."

"I would have yelled at him to go, too," Ginny said through gritted teeth.

"Where did he go?" Arthur asked. He was sitting up straight now, the paper lay in his lap, forgotten.

"He certainly didn't come here," Mrs Weasley sniffed.

"I thought he'd go to Hogwarts," Harry said.

"He never turned up there," Ginny said. "I would have hexed him if he had."

"The Snatchers got him," Harry admitted, Molly gasped. "He escaped, though, and tried to get back but Hermione and I moved and concealed ourselves again and he couldn't find us, so he went to Bill's."

"You and Hermione were alone in the tent?" Molly raised an eyebrow and Ginny snickered.

"Erm ... well …"

"Molly," Arthur said quietly, "I hardly think that's the point." Molly's knitting needles began to move faster, her fingers flying furiously.

"She spent the whole time crying about Ron," Harry said, feeling uncomfortably hot. He knew his face was flaming. "I don't blame him. Not really. I had no idea what I was doing. He was right to question me."

"Bill never told us Ron was there," Arthur said. Molly grunted. Harry didn't know if she was unhappy with him and Hermione or Bill and Ron.

"When did he come back?" Ginny asked.

"After Christmas he found us again," Harry said.

"After Christmas?" Ginny stared incredulously. "It was that long?" Harry shrugged.

"He saved my life."

"Why didn't he come home?" Arthur asked. Molly's knitting needles were shaky and she stopped knitting suddenly, looking up at Harry.

"Yes, why?" she asked softly. Harry couldn't bear the sorrow in her gaze and he turned to look into the fire.

"He thought you'd be angry with him for walking out on us," he said. "He was particularly afraid of the twins' wrath and what Ginny might do to him."

"He was right to be afraid," Ginny said furiously. "If he had turned up here at Christmas, I would've – oooh and he sent_ me_ a Howler for not talking to you? That hypocrite!"

"Ron sent you a Howler?" Molly raised her eyebrow at her daughter and Harry saw Arthur attempt to mask a smirk. Ginny just growled.

"So when he found us again he warned us about not saying Voldemort, but …" Harry shrugged.

"How long did Hermione refuse to talk to him?" Ginny asked.

"Only about a day." Harry grinned at her. Ginny grinned back. Molly's needles began to click-clack again and Arthur's paper rustled as he picked it up, folding it carefully.

"What made you say Voldemort?" Ginny asked after a moment. "To get you captured?"

"We were listening to _Potterwatch_," Harry said absently, "and Fred was talking … we thought it might have been George but Ron said it was Fred …" Harry stopped as his throat closed over. He struggled to swallow and took a deep breath.

"Fred was Rapier," Ginny said quietly. "He was joking about Basilisks."

"How did you-"

"Bill came to move us to Auntie Muriel's," Ginny cut in, "because they knew Ron was with you. George and I were listening to the wireless and then … I felt like something bad had happened but I didn't know what. We …. me and George, stayed up all night waiting for Fred to come home. He had trouble on his way back from broadcasting, had to hide for a while. Reckoned he was spotted but he couldn't figure out what they wanted."

"He didn't tell me that!" Molly exclaimed, the knitting needles stopping briefly before resuming their steady click-clack.

"There wasn't a lot of time," Ginny said, drawing her knees up to her chest. "And things got crazy that day. Remember Bill showed up? You made us all leave but you wouldn't tell me why. Fred only just got home in time. Bill and George were arguing because George wouldn't leave without Fred. Bill told him he'd stay for Fred and that George had to get me out. That was the only thing that got George moving. When I realised George wasn't waiting for Fred – but only because of me … I made Bill tell me … I made him tell me what had happened."

"I wondered what made you ask why we couldn't go and stay with Bill," Arthur said, sounding incredibly amused. Ginny blushed heavily.

"One Fidelius would have been a lot easier to set up," Ginny answered.

"There wouldn't have been room," Harry muttered. Ginny patted his thigh.

"I know," she said, "and it also would have been very distracting." Harry leaned down and pressed a kiss to her head.

"Yeah," he breathed.

"I can't believe Ron ditched you guys," Ginny muttered. "He-"

"Don't blame Ron for everything," Harry said quietly. "He's my best mate and sometimes … it's my fault."

"All right then," Ginny sighed. "Can I at least get him back for the Howler?" Harry laughed then.

"Only if I can help."

************

It was late and Molly and Arthur had gone up to bed. Harry and Ginny sat together in the living room. Harry was idly playing with the hem of Ginny's shirt while she flicked through the evening paper her father had left when he'd gone up to bed.

"It says here that they've chosen a sculptor for the new statue in the Ministry," Ginny said.

"Hmmmm," Harry answered, leaning forward to nuzzle her neck.

"I wonder what it will be, oh…" Ginny trailed off as Harry began to place feather light kisses along her collarbone, through her shirt.

"We'll find out," Harry murmured. "As long as it's not of me, I don't care." Ginny giggled and shifted a bit so that Harry could slip his hands underneath her shirt.

Ginny soon abandoned the paper in favour of kissing Harry and it was several minutes before she pulled away, her hands still running through his hair.

"We should go up to bed," he said. "It's late."

"Okay," Ginny said, grinning. "Yours or mine?"

"Separate beds," Harry said firmly. Ginny pouted.

"Party pooper."

"I'm not … I can't … your father trusts me!"

"I know," Ginny said gently. "I'm only kidding. But if you want to …"

"No," Harry shook his head. "I just … your parents ..."

"It's okay," Ginny insisted, her fingers trailing down the front of his shirt. She leaned forward and kissed him and Harry gave himself up to the feelings until Ginny pulled away. "Mum's probably listening for when we go to bed."

Harry nodded wordlessly and stood up, extending a hand to her as he did so. They stopped outside Ginny's bedroom.

"Goodnight," Ginny said.

"See you in the morning," Harry whispered. He kissed Ginny softly, his hands trailing along her sides and over her hips. He squeezed her hand one last time before he turned to go up the stairs to Ron's room.

Once inside he pulled the packet of photos out of his pocket and sat on the cramped bed that had been left permanently in Ron's room for him. He shed his robes, shrugging them onto the floor and toed off his trainers before pulling his feet up onto the bed and untying the packet again. The photographs spilled out and the wrapping paper fluttered to the floor. As Harry picked it up he noticed a gift tag still attached with a yellowing piece of spellotape that was only still there by magic. He carefully turned the tag over so that he could read the scrawl on it.

'_To Lily, all my love, James'_

Harry smiled. The square of paper wasn't very big but it had been folded meticulously. Harry held it and the gift tag in his hands for a moment before putting it down, laying the squashed gift bow on the top and turning his attention again to the photographs. The photos of his smiling grandparents and his radiant parents were taken on the same day as the Muggle photograph he'd found in the envelope from Dudley. They were wearing the same clothes and displaying the same ring proudly. The fairy lights on the Christmas tree fluttered from branch to branch and the dark, rich background looked similar to the furnishings at Grimmauld Place. Harry wondered if his father had grown up in a similar style of house.

He reached out silently to trace the features of his grandfather. The old man had bright, twinkling eyes that reminded him of Dumbledore and thinning hair that was obviously white with age. The affection that shone through to his wife and son was obvious and Harry felt his eyes grow wet. He smiled as he let the tears fall. The people in the photos were gone but he held, in his hands, some echo of his wizarding heritage and now that he finally had it, the emotions overwhelmed him. Ginny had said there were more things in his vault and he wondered why he'd not investigated it before.

Harry propped the photo of his father and grandparents on his bedside table and undressed for bed. If he was honest with himself he hadn't checked the vault partly because he didn't have time but mostly because his past had been something he'd been told never to ask. First rule of living with the Dursleys – 'Don't ask questions'. It was as if something inside of him was slowly melting and he started to wonder for the first time what his family was like and what other treasures he could uncover at the back of the vault. As he doused the lamp and burrowed under the covers he realised that for the first time he was curious, perhaps even excited to find out what lay in his past.

The thought must have kept him awake because he was still laying, staring at the ceiling and wondering if he'd been a fool to pass up the opportunity to have Ginny Weasley in his bed when the door creaked open. Harry propped himself up on one elbow to see Ginny, bathed in moonlight, pushing the door closed behind her.

"What are you doing?" he whispered.

"Visiting," Ginny replied as she padded softly over to his bed.

"Oh …"

"Budge over," Ginny hissed as she reached for the covers. Harry clutched them to his chest

"What?" Harry yelped. She was dressed in nothing more than one of Ron's old Cannons T Shirts and Harry was acutely aware of his own state of undress. Ginny just rolled her eyes.

"I've seen it all before," she grinned and bent down to yank the covers away and climbed in beside Harry. She smirked as Harry's eyes travelled down to the spot where the T Shirt had ridden up on her thighs. "And so have you."

Harry pulled the covers up around their shoulders and Ginny snuggled closer to him, laying her head on the pillow and reaching an arm out to snake around his waist.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you-"

"I can tell," Ginny murmured.

"Ginny!" She ran her hand up and down his back slowly and Harry found his arms around her and his lips on hers before he had a conscious thought. It was with extreme self control that he pulled away, because Ginny was pressed against him in all the right places and he was sure she was trying to torture him or kill him … or both.

"Harry," Ginny murmured, not deterred by his actions she merely began kissing along his jaw and down his neck.

"Stop that," Harry hissed.

"Why?" Ginny asked as she trailed kisses across his shoulder. "You've been desperate all day."

"Desperate's a strong word …"

"You tried to feel me up in George's bathroom with a cleaning rag in the other hand!"

"You shouldn't lean over like that …"

"I do it on purpose …" Ginny giggled and ran a hand down and over the curve of his hip and Harry sucked in a breath.

"I know," he growled. With a massive amount of self control he still his own hands which had been tracing patterns on her back through the T Shirt and took a deep, shuddering breath. "You need to go back to bed."

"I am in bed."

"Not my bed, your bed!"

"Why?" In the moonlight that streamed through Ron's tiny window Harry could see her big, brown eyes looking up at him, the pupils wide. He struggled to find a reason. Taking a deep breath he stared short-sightedly at the picture propped up on his nightstand. He couldn't see the people in the image but he knew his father stood proudly with his parents in front of an impressive Christmas tree, the three of them smiling and happy.

"Your parents," Harry answered eventually, "are right down stairs. It's not … it's well … your dad …"

"Understands," Ginny said, beginning a fresh trail of kisses along his jaw line.

"Yeah, he'd be very understanding if he came up here to investigate the odd sounds the ghoul was making," Harry hissed, "and found us in bed … and the ghoul not making the noises!" Ginny giggled and Harry groaned as the laughter shook her whole body which was still in contact with his own.

"Are you saying, Mr Potter, that I'm noisy in bed?"

"Dunno," Harry shot back, "Never had you in a bed before!" Ginny laughed then, a full belly laugh that seemed to bubble out of her throat and float out across the silent room.

"Shhhhhhhh!"

"Mum and dad can't hear us," Ginny whispered as she tried to control her laughter. "They're a couple flights down and Dad's snoring is legendary. I don't know how Mum sleeps through it. Neither of them are going to hear anything. You could make me scream your name and they wouldn't even know it."

"You're killing me," Harry groaned at the images Ginny was putting in his head. "This is your parents' house!"

"Oh stop!" Ginny said, her voice muffled as she travelled down his chest, laying a trail of kisses in her wake. She giggled again. "They have sex in the house all the time."

This did not reassure Harry. He was not at all certain that they would be so amenable to _him_ having sex in their house. With their daughter. While they were there.

He wasn't sure_ he_ was amenable to it. But Ginny's lips did make a persuasive argument … and his body seemed to have ideas very different from his head. He could tell Ginny was smiling as he pressed against her and pulled her lips up to his for a searing kiss that he could feel all the way to his toes. He'd been a fool to even think he could let her back out of his bed once she'd climbed in.

*************

Harry cracked his eyes open when he heard the door creak. He froze. He could still feel Ginny's warmth pressed against his side, her leg thrown over his and her breathing ghosting softly across his chest. Dawn was breaking and a weak light filtered in through the window. There was no hiding the red tresses strewn across his pillow and the discarded clothing on the floor.

"Harry!" an urgent voice hissed. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah," Harry answered back in a voice that cracked alarmingly.

"I need to talk to you!" It was George.

_This was good news_, Harry thought as he grabbed for his glasses. George offered the brightest hope for mercy. Ginny stirred as Harry found his glasses and shoved them on his face awkwardly with one hand.

"Don't wake her up," George hissed. Harry glared at George, expecting to find him smirking at him or perhaps taking aim.

But George was looking anxious and pale, shifting rapidly from one foot to the other in the doorway. Harry slowly untangled his limbs from Ginny's and soothed her back to sleep with a kiss, stroking her hair the way he did to Teddy. He blushed a little as he climbed out of the bed and unearthed his boxers from beneath Ginny's T Shirt, pulling them on hastily. He and George had once shared a locker room, but Harry had never entered the locker room after being pressed against a naked girl. The evidence was damning.

"Come on," George muttered urgently, grabbing Harry's arm and hauling him down the stairs. He stumbled on the second floor landing and banged into the wall. George shushed him hurriedly and kept dragging him. Harry winced as his left foot connected with the banister and his right shoulder was wrenched as George rounded the corner, making for the sitting room.

Perhaps torture wasn't far from George's mind at all.

"Next time could you let me get a robe or dressing gown or … even a shirt?" Harry grumbled, rubbing his shoulder.

"Sorry," George said, not sounding at all penitent. He grinned at Harry for a brief moment. "You should wear pyjamas." Harry crossed his arms over his chest and glared.

"What was so urgent you had to drag me out of bed at …" He squinted at the timepiece on the mantelpiece, "seven o'clock in the morning on a weekend?"

"Nice, warm bed was it, Potter?" George was smirking and Harry didn't answer him. The smirk lasted only seconds before George began pacing and a worried frown graced his features. He spun to face Harry suddenly. "You know the contraception charm, right?"

Harry nodded slowly. George gripped Harry's upper arms, his fingers digging in painfully.

"Always, always _use it_," George said. He looked pale and anxious in the pale, dawn light.

"George," Harry said. "You probably should have told me that … earlier." George released him and smacked the back of Harry's head.

"Don't get smart or I'll conveniently remember who I saw in your bed just now," George smirked evilly. "And I'll tell Ron you did it in his room."

"How was your date?" Harry asked, casting wildly about for a change of subject. "And d'you think I could borrow your cloak? I'm freezing here." George unbuttoned his cloak and threw it at Harry before pacing the length of the living room. He leaned on the windowsill, his head against the pane. Harry threw the cloak around his shoulders and clutched it together at the front. George looked as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He stepped forward tentatively.

"George?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

"She wanted to see me," George said quietly turning around. "Angelina had some news for me."

"Was it good news?" Harry studied George's face.

"I think so," George said slowly. "But I don't know what to do."

"Can I help?" Harry asked quietly.

"I – I …" George sighed. He looked up. "She's pregnant."


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40.**

"She's what?" Harry asked blankly. George turned to look out of the window at the lightening sky.

"Pregnant," he whispered.

"Like with a baby, pregnant?" Harry was sure he was still half asleep and he hadn't heard George correctly.

"What other sort of pregnant is there?" George asked incredulously as he left the window and began pacing.

Harry, his bare feet freezing and the draft from the window going down the back of his neck, went to stoke up the burning embers in the fireplace. He stood huddled in front of the tiny flames, throwing on a couple of pieces of wood to coax the fire back to life. Harry was suddenly sick of Ginny's brothers interfering. Maybe he and Ginny had been a little indiscreet, but his relationship with Ginny wasn't casual.

"While you might find this very amusing," Harry said, "I don't think it's particularly funny."

"Funny?" George stopped pacing. "You think this is some sort of joke-"

"How does Angelina feel about this?"

"She's pretty spun out-"

"This is just rich, you using_ Angelina_ like this!" Harry exclaimed. "Besides, Ginny and I are adults!"

"Keep your voice down, git!" George hissed. "And what are you-"

"And we're perfectly responsible," Harry continued, cutting George off with a glare. "I wish you lot would get over this idea you seem to have that I'm going to hurt Ginny or that she's still too young or whatever stupid issue you have going on this week. Do you all not get that I want to _marry_ her? That she is it for me?"

"Harry-"

"Making up some _pregnancy_ to prove some stupid point about contraception is ridiculous!" Harry cried. He let go of the cloak to wave his arms about to emphasise his point and it hung off his shoulders precariously. Harry was flushed with a mixture of frustration and anger; combined with the growing fire, he didn't notice his state of undress. "I think if I can cast a corporeal Patronus I can cast an effective, ruddy contraception charm – don't you think? I love Ginny! I'm not taking any chances with her future."

Harry pulled the cloak off his left shoulder and thrust the damaged flesh under George's nose. The scars were greatly diminished but the shiny, twisted skin was still visible in the meagre light cast by the fire and the brightening sky.

"I did that for her," Harry growled suddenly. "Everything I do is for her!"

"I know," George said quietly. He shifted uncomfortably. Harry ignored him.

"People gave their lives for our future!" Harry knew it was a low blow but it tumbled out of him anyway. "I'm not playing fast and loose with that privilege! We don't need you lot slinking around behind our backs trying to teach us a lesson. We know what we're doing, we're responsible and this is not a casual, quick shag! I _love_ her! We've been together for months! Your own _mother_ had less of a reaction than you-"

"For Merlin's sake, Harry!" George interrupted furiously, his face red. "Would you keep it down? This isn't about you! I don't care if you shag Ginny on the kitchen table in the middle of dinner – well maybe I don't want to see_ that_ … the point is; this isn't about you and Ginny! I'm not talking about you! I'm talking about me! _I _managed to play _fast and loose_ and knock Angelina up!"

"What?" Harry stared, his face heating up. "You mean like … you and her …" Harry waved a hand in the air, at a loss for words.

"Yes," George sighed heavily. "Me and her …"

"She's really pregnant?" Harry gaped at George. "How – how did that happen?"

"What do you mean, how did that happen?" George raised an eyebrow at Harry. "You were just in bed – naked – with my sister. I think you know how it happens. I _hope_ you know how it happens or we need to have a serious discussion!"

"Ha ha," Harry said dryly. George clapped Harry on his left shoulder. Harry winced.

"You see," George began, "when a wizard loves a witch very much he has certain feelings and urges. This causes physical changes in the wizard's body-"

"Thanks George," Harry said, blushing beet red. "I'm aware of the … mechanics."

"Well then," George said, "you'll be aware that sometimes these mechanics result in some fun times … and also … babies. Let me spell it out for you. Angelina and I got mechanical. It was fun. We were also apparently not very responsible. She's pregnant. I'm the father."

"Oh." Harry sat down suddenly on the nearest chair.

"Yeah," George laughed mercilessly. "That's what I did. Only it was sort of less like the sitting and more like falling." He ran his hands through his hair raggedly. "We didn't plan for this. Harry, what am I going to do?"

"Erm …" Harry scratched the back of his head. He wasn't sure why George was asking him this. "You're joking, right?"

"You keep asking me that. I know I make a living of joking; but Harry, I'm really trying to be serious… could you please give a bloke a break?"

"You're not joking," Harry said, still trying to convince himself what George was saying was true. "She's really …?"

"If Fred was here, he'd kill me," George said flatly. "Of course, if Fred was here, this wouldn't have happened." George clenched his fists, looking as if he wanted to punch something.

"Did it happen … was it while-"

"That bender we went on," George nodded, sighed heavily and sank into a chair. "She only found out today – yesterday, whatever day it is. Oh, what have I done?"

"I reckon there are worse things," Harry said quietly.

"I've been up all night, trying to figure it out," George admitted. "Walking mostly. I just … I needed to tell someone. Talk to them. I told Fred … git didn't answer me."

"Well …"

"Probably turning in his grave."

Against his will, Harry snorted. George looked at him for a moment before he burst out laughing. Harry's snort became a full, throaty chuckle and the two of them began laughing harder.

"This is the most ridiculous thing you have ever heard isn't it?" George asked Harry, tears of laughter rolling down his cheeks.

"It's not that ridiculous," Harry said, still laughing.

"Shhhhh." George tried to stifle his chuckles. "I don't want anyone else to hear!"

"Hear what?" Harry asked innocently. "That you're going to be a dad?"

"I'm …" George sat in the slowly brightening living room, staring into space. "I'm going to be a dad. That's good news, isn't it, Harry?"

"Yeah, I reckon it is."

They sat in silence for a while before George yawned.

"I've been up all night, I might go get some sleep," George said. "I can open the shop late, I guess …"

"Yeah I could use some going back to bed," Harry agreed.

"I bet you could," George grinned at him and Harry felt his face heat spectacularly.

"To sleep!"

"Sure …" George smirked. "Remember the incantation? We don't need another announcement; Merlin knows Mum's going to pop a vein when I tell her this."

"Tell her what?" A sleepy voice came from the doorway. Both Harry and George spun around to see Ginny standing there in Harry's pyjama top and a pair of rather tiny knickers that Harry vaguely remembered from the night before.

"That I've been out all night," George lied smoothly.

"Oh, well that's good isn't it?" Ginny said. "Get up to any mischief?"

"Me? Mischief?" George asked in mock horror. "Surely you jest, little sister! Looks like you got up to some though …" He winked exaggeratedly and Harry wondered if his face would be stained permanently red.

"I wouldn't call it mischief-"

"Well I would, young lady!" Molly's shrill voice pierced the air. The three of them started and turned rather guiltily towards the door. "I would be interested to know what happened to _your _pyjamas for a start." Ginny gulped and eyed her mother carefully before shrugging.

"More to the point," George said cheerfully, "where's the other half of those?"

"Well, Harry isn't wearing them," Molly said rather pointedly. Harry wanted to sink through the floor. He grabbed at the cloak and pulled it closed. He'd been standing there in his boxers. Molly turned to George. "Also of concern is why you are fully dressed at this hour."

George stood unwavering under his mother's pointed gaze.

"Got up early to open the shop," he said.

"Don't lie to me!" his mother snapped. "You've not been out of bed before eight o'clock for months and then only because someone forced you out! And that shirt is not a work shirt! You've been out all night, haven't you? I know things haven't been good, but this behaviour has got to stop! You need to start being responsible and that includes coming in at a respectable hour. I've a good mind to give you a curfew while you're staying here, young man! Merlin knows what sort of trouble you're getting into at all hours of the day and night!"

"You have no idea …" George muttered as his mother continued her rant.

"I could get a call from St Mungo's in the middle of the night!"

"Actually that's likely in a few months, I reckon …"

"You could really ruin your reputation going around with all those witches!"

"I actually have a fabulous reputation …"

"We could find you lying in a ditch!"

"Possibly … when Angelina's dad gets hold of me …"

Molly wasn't listening to George but Harry was trying desperately not to laugh. Molly turned to her daughter.

"And I hope you remember what I told you!"

"Yes, Mum," Ginny nodded. "Message received, clear as a bell."

"Don't give me any lip, young lady," Molly warned. She pierced Harry and Ginny in turn with a searing look. "I'm willing to turn a blind eye but _don't_ think I appreciate the underwear parade. I suggest you go up, to _your_ room, and get something on before your father comes down."

Ginny scuttled out of the room promptly. George glanced surreptitiously at Harry before he squared his shoulders.

"Well I'll be off then, lots to do!" he proclaimed.

"Now you can just march yourself into the kitchen," Molly fixed her son with a gaze that would freeze water. She continued in a deceptively sweet tone. "You need breakfast before you go. You too, Harry; it is the most important meal of the day."

"But I'm not dressed-"

"You can get dressed after breakfast," Molly said blithely, holding the door open and gesturing through. Harry and George shared a significant glance before sidling through the doorway and into the kitchen.

Harry slid into a chair, the cloak clutched around him, as George leant casually against a sideboard, watching his mother get out the bacon and eggs. Molly waited until the bacon was sizzling and a whisk was merrily scrambling the eggs before she said anything.

"I understand that you have been … very upset." Molly addressed George, who snorted inelegantly. "However, I cannot ignore this … behaviour any longer."

"And there's the mum we all know and love," George said. "It's wonderful to have you back from the pits of grief and despair!" Molly fixed him with a stern gaze.

"That's enough of your flippant commentary," she said. "You were out all night. I do not think I want to know what you were up to while I lay awake wondering whose bed you were in or if you were drinking yourself blind."

Harry wanted to sink through the floor at this direct speech but George merely shrugged.

"I told you, I went out with Angie," he said neutrally.

"All night?" Molly asked pointedly. George shifted uneasily at her tone.

"Most of it."

"The point is, George," Molly sighed, "we just don't know anymore. How you are, what you're doing. You never tell us anything that's going on with you."

"Well … get ready," George muttered as his mother turned to the stove to prod the bacon.

"What was that, dear?" Molly asked as she turned around, wiping her hands on her apron. George shook his head wordlessly. "Well, the point is ... it really needs to be said … you have to understand …"

"What she means to say," Arthur said from the doorway, "is that it's not appropriate to carry on like this with young women, they deserve more respect."

"I worship women, Dad," George said with a smirk.

"I'm aware of that," his father remarked dryly. "I seem to remember a rather vocal young lass that you had the rather unfortunate idea to bring here." George blanched.

"The walls in this house," Molly remarked, "are rather thin. The point is that I don't think it's a bad idea to remind the pair of you how one conducts himself in the presence of a lady. Having her home at a decent hour, instead of being out all night is a good start." She shovelled some eggs onto a plate, topped it with bacon and plunked it down in front of Harry, who was trying to blend into the furniture. What he wouldn't give for a good Disillusionment charm right now.

"But it was only me out all night!" George grumbled. "She was in well before … three o'clock."

"Privacy is very important," Molly said, rolling her eyes at George's comment. "Specifically hers-"

"Oh, so you mean don't walk in on Ginny in the shower, that sort of thing?" George asked innocently.

"No!" his mother snapped. "I mean you shouldn't talk about your … exploits with whomever you fancy!"

"Oh that's not fair," George remonstrated. "I never tell you lot anything. Hey, can I talk about someone else's exploits?" He grinned at Harry, who scowled furiously.

"No!" Molly said in a strangled tone, nearly dropping a plate of bacon and eggs in Arthur's lap.

"There is nothing that goes on in this house that we don't know about," Arthur said, gently taking the plate from his wife and sliding the food back onto it. Harry froze.

"There is very little you could tell us, George," Molly snapped. "However, next time you drag Harry out of bed, give him a chance to get dressed. However much he is family, it's just not appropriate because … well, there are ladies present."

"Ginny's not seeing anything new," George said casually, sitting down and accepting the plate of bacon and eggs his mother pushed towards him.

"George!" Harry was mortified, his face was flaming and he wanted a hole to open up in the floor and swallow him. He couldn't look either of Ginny's parents in the eye.

"Perhaps not," Molly said in a strained tone, "but I won't tolerate this causal behaviour any longer, George Weasley! No more! You need to stop this reckless behaviour and really think about your activities. _Especially_ those which involve young women who deserve to be treated with consideration. Your father and I raised you to be respectful young men, not some sort of Ferro Fernwicker!"

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Womaniser from her favourite magazine serial," George whispered out of the corner of his mouth as his mother kept going on about respect, honour and courtship.

"These things are not old-fashioned!" Molly finished and her face was flushed and she was waving a finger in George's face expressively.

"How come Harry's not in trouble?" George asked petulantly.

"Who said he's not?" his father said quietly. Harry looked up, startled, to find Arthur's eyes twinkling merrily. Arthur stood up and slid his arms around his wife's waist. "Ginny's just like you, my love; beautiful, fiery ... Harry's in all manner of trouble." George's snicker turned to a groan as his father bent to nuzzle his wife's neck. Molly giggled.

Harry and George just looked at each other. When they turned back to Molly and Arthur it was to see Arthur's hands wandering into territory Molly had just told Harry and George to stay out of.

"You, my darling," crooned Arthur, "are wonderful. Don't be too hard on the boys; anyone who has what I have is a lucky man indeed."

"Well, yes," Molly said breathlessly while George and Harry stared in growing horror at the way her hands circled Arthur's waist, threatening to travel lower. "If it's … it's not something … not something casual."

"Ah, Mollywobbles, you are such a passionate woman …"

"Let's beat it, Harry!" George hissed urgently, standing up suddenly. "Once he says Mollywobbles it gets a bit … well, we don't need to see that!" George grabbed a piece of bacon and a slice of toast with one hand and Harry's collar with the other and dragged him out of the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye Harry though he saw Arthur start kissing Molly's neck and he was glad George had the foresight to save them when he had.

"No wonder there's seven of you!" Harry gasped as they took the stairs two at a time.

"I know," George replied. "I'm surprised there aren't more of us! The number of times Fred and I caught them … all over the house … kissing and snuggling and … and she had the gall to reprimand us!"

Ginny was hovering on the landing outside her bedroom door. She was now fully dressed and Harry blushed as she eyed him appreciatively.

"Don't go down there yet, Gin," George warned her. "He called her Mollywobbles."

"Oh, that's never good," Ginny grimaced. "Still it doesn't always turn out a disaster … I might be able to risk it."

"If the behaviour we just witnessed is anything to go by, Mum and Dad are about to Christen the kitchen table!" George said.

"Oh, I already caught them doing that the summer after your second year," Ginny laughed. "But it's absolutely nothing compared to how I found them in the orchard when I was six!"

"_Obliviate_ me now, Harry," George moaned.

***************

When Harry had showered and dressed, he returned to the breakfast table and found Ginny helping her mother with the dishes at the sink and his plate still under a warming charm. George was nowhere to be seen and Arthur was reading the paper at the table. Harry sat down silently.

"Want some juice?" The voice startled him and he jumped. Ginny was standing next to him, holding a pitcher of pumpkin juice. Harry nodded.

"Thanks," he answered quietly when she'd finished pouring. He took a sip hesitantly. It was all so normal. No one had flown off the handle and he hadn't been kicked out. Harry waited for the axe to fall.

"They really need to do something about this, Molly," Arthur said suddenly, the newspaper rustling as he laid it on the table. "These poor children have been stuck in St Mungo's for weeks now, only because they have nowhere to go. It's disgraceful."

"Well didn't you speak to Kingsley?" Molly said. She came over, wiping her hands on a tea towel. "Harry dear, the warming charm isn't going to last forever and Ginny says you have a lot to do today. Eat up!"

"What are you up to today, son?" Arthur asked absently, still scanning the newspaper and shaking his head. "I did speak to Kingsley but he can't seem to get through the parchments, either. Honestly, we're lucky to have come out of this with as few orphans as we did, but the Ministry is just being so cautious and doing things by the book since the end of the war."

"Orphans?" Harry asked, his curiosity overcoming his fear of what Ginny's parents thought of the previous evening's activities.

"Poor little mites," Molly murmured, reading over her husband's shoulder. "Are they still pretending to try and find some relatives?" Arthur nodded.

"There are orphans at St Mungo's?" Harry asked.

"They're just babies," Molly sighed.

"Who?" Harry insisted. Arthur looked up from the paper.

"Some weeks ago it came to our attention that there was a Death Eater stronghold that hadn't been properly searched," Arthur sighed heavily.

"There were children there?" Harry asked. "After all this time?"

"Two little ones," Molly nodded. "Thank Merlin for the house-elves."

"But why?" Ginny asked. She sounded pained. Harry reached for her, intending to comfort her with a gentle touch but she slid into his lap, her eyes on the newspaper.

"Why were they there?" her father asked, looking over the top of his glasses at her. Harry couldn't meet his eyes and wondered what Ginny's parents thought of her actually sitting on his lap at the breakfast table.

"Death Eaters don't kidnap," Ginny answered. "They hurt and torture, but they don't keep you." She sounded scornful.

"You don't know what they're capable of," Molly snapped.

"Yes I do," Ginny shot back. Harry could feel her back stiffen as she eyed her mother grimly. Molly sighed and turned away, knowing Ginny was right. Forcing down his unease at such a display in the kitchen, Harry put his arms around Ginny and leaned over to kiss her cheek softly.

"They didn't waste time with kidnapping at school last year," Ginny said. "Torture did them just fine." She sounded angry and bitter.

"They took Luna … to make her father do what they wanted," Harry said quietly. "And then … they took Hermione because they knew it would make us crazy. I – I couldn't bear it but Ron … I think it would have been easier if they'd beaten him. He just … it's just another form of torture." Ron's hoarse screams and the pounding on the door as they were shut in the cellars at Malfoy Manor echoed through Harry's head and he shuddered, closing his eyes. Ginny turned in his embrace and softly caressed his cheek.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't think of it like that."

"S'okay."

"We don't think they were kidnap victims," Arthur said quietly. "We think they're … the strongholds were where the Death Eaters lived and … there's evidence these children are theirs."

"Death Eaters have children?" Ginny asked blankly before shaking her head. "Well obviously they do … I just … it's a weird concept that there are … babies."

"Why?" Arthur asked her thoughtfully.

"Well it's just …" Ginny trailed off a faint blush staining her cheeks before she took a deep breath and continued. "Babies are … they come from love." She was fidgeting slightly as if she hadn't really said what she wanted to say.

"Yes," Molly sat down and watched Ginny as she struggled with her thoughts. Harry listened intently, curious to hear Ginny's train of thought.

"Obviously I know how people become parents," Ginny said, sitting up straighter and sounding more confident. "And well … it's just – how do Death Eaters feel that? They hold onto so much hate and they're … there's no love there. How is it that they … I mean it feels… how do they _feel _enough to … make love?" She blurted the last two words as if forcing them out of her mouth, her face flushed.

"Those actions are not always motivated by love, Ginny dear," Molly said gently. "Sometimes it's power or even violence, but … even those who followed Voldemort had those whom they loved, I'm sure."

"I don't believe it," Ginny said flatly. "A person who feels what it's like to share themselves intimately – how can they hurt and torture and kill other people? Once you feel that how can you still want to hurt and torment people?"

"Not everyone has the same experience as you've had," Molly replied. Harry stared intently at a spot just above the kitchen sink, his face heating spectacularly.

"But … children …" Ginny seemed to be struggling for words once again. She took a deep breath and squeezed Harry's hand. "Parents – when you're a parent … they _die_ for their kids!" Harry sucked in a breath involuntarily and Ginny gripped his hand tighter.

"I'm sure their parents loved them," Arthur said quietly.

"How could they?" Ginny cried. "How could they love their kids and then hurt and torture other people's? How could they have babies and share that love, that special bond with each other and then just _hurt_ children? They can't have loved those babies or they wouldn't have chained Michael to that wall for rescuing that little first year! They wouldn't have broken his arm and made his wrist bleed from the shackles! And they would have let him go see Madam Pomfrey!"

"Ginny-" Molly reached across the table but Ginny shrank away from her.

"If they had babies of their own, how could they order the entire second year to miss out on tea because someone let off a Dumgbomb during Muggle Studies?" Ginny was shaking now and Harry began to run his hands up and down her arms, making shushing noises and trying to steady her trembling limbs. "We all snuck them some food but Roger Entwhistle got caught and they put him in the dungeon for the whole night! And when he fell asleep during Defence Against the Dark Arts the next day they gave him to Crabbe for _Crucio_ practice."

Ginny leapt up, out of Harry's lap, tears beginning to roll down her face. She clenched her fists and held her arms rigidly at her sides.

"They _can't_ know what it's like to love!" she sobbed. "How can they? They don't know how beautiful it is! There's nothing but blackness in them and darkness and – they don't know! They can't know! How can they do that and still not _feel_ it? How can they throw away that … that intimacy and be so cruel? How can they have children and _still love them_?"

"Ginny," Harry said quietly, reaching out to her, putting one hand on her arm. She looked at him, her brown eyes filling with tears.

"It's beautiful," she whispered to him. "How can they not feel it?"

"I know," Harry gathered her into his arms. He swayed gently back and forth, rocking Ginny as she cried.

After a while Ginny's tears dried up and she straightened up, sniffing a little.

"I am such a goose," she said, shaking her head ruefully.

"No you aren't." Harry smiled at her. Ginny didn't notice, she took a few steps to the table and gazed at the article in the Daily Prophet.

"They're so innocent," she said, reaching out a hand to touch the cherubic faces of the two small children pictured in the morning paper. A headline underneath proclaimed them homeless. The picture was surrounded by articles about how they were found. There was a list of known Death Eater haunts that at least one reporter suggested the Ministry officials check for more 'strays' and a plea for anyone who knew who they were to contact St Mungo's.

"Can they stay, Harry?" Ginny asked suddenly.

"Stay?"

"At the Home," Ginny said. "Can they stay there – at least for Christmas?"

"Where, dear?" Molly asked. Harry jumped. He'd forgotten Molly and Arthur were there.

"At Sirius House," Ginny explained, "at number twelve, Grimmauld Place. It's ready in time for Christmas."

"We'll need to talk to Mrs Chumley," Harry said. "They're a bit smaller than the others. They'll need more care."

"Oh, she can't say no!" Ginny cried.

"How do you … who says where they can go though?" Harry looked up at Arthur, questioning.

"I really think … well, Kingsley couldn't cut through the legal parchments surrounding this," Arthur said.

"Then what do we do now?" Ginny frowned slightly.

"I suspect that," Arthur hesitated slightly. "I suspect that Harry might actually have more influence than Kingsley." Harry raised his eyebrows.

"It went to the Wizengamot and they didn't want the children just … out there," Arthur said quietly. "They are very concerned that they be under the best of influences. Very few people are allowed near the children at all. They mean well but …"

"So the children need a guardian?" Molly asked. "Someone who will … who the Wizengamot think will be a good influence, keep them from going Dark. And because they can't decide where the children should live they are keeping them homeless and isolated?"

"Yes," Arthur said simply.

"Barbaric," proclaimed Molly with finality.

"So why has Harry got more influence?" Ginny asked.

"He's Harry Potter," her father replied matter-of-factly. Arthur looked at Harry in what he could only think was an apologetic manner before continuing. "He's … a war orphan himself and as the person who defeated Voldemort; a certified, well, Defender of the Light, one would say."

"You think I have a chance to get these kids out of St Mungo's?" Harry asked, as he pulled the newspaper towards him.

"Probably the only one who does right now," Arthur admitted.

"Why didn't you ask me before?"

"It would involve being their legal guardian," Arthur replied gently. "It's a lot to ask of an eighteen-year-old young man."

"Did you think I wouldn't do it?" Harry asked.

"Of course you would," Arthur replied immediately. "And that's why I insisted Kingsley didn't ask you. Don't you think you've made enough sacrifices, Harry? These children aren't your problem. No one will let them starve and we'll sort out a home for them eventually-"

"And do you really think that's good enough?" Harry asked harshly.

"No," said Molly sharply. "Of course it's not good enough but it's not fair to ask you to do more and children are such a responsibility-"

"Sirius House is set up with a guardianship board," Harry said quietly. "If the Chairman of this board was to submit an application for their guardianship and residence …?"

"I think he'd be granted the application," Arthur said, smiling.

"You've set all that up?" Molly asked.

"Well, not entirely," Harry admitted, scratching the back of his head. "I mean Percy set up most of it. He knows how to do all this paperwork stuff and Hermione researched all the legal things to send him. And Bill figured out how to set up the funds. I don't think the goblins were immensely happy when we turned the Black family fortune into the _James and Lily Potter Foundation_ and the _Remus Lupin Perpetual Education Fund_."

"Goodness you have been busy," Arthur said in surprise.

"I think Kreacher's done most of the work though," Harry continued. "I hired someone to run the House but … I wanted to ask …"

"If we can help, Harry dear," Molly smiled at him, nodding firmly.

"I think Mrs Chumley will need some help from time to time," Harry said. "She's not magical and … Kreacher will be there but … there are four Hogwarts students coming for Christmas." Harry shifted anxiously as he watched Molly.

"She's the mother of those dear boys we met at King's Cross, isn't she?" Molly asked, her face a mask of concentration.

"Yes," Harry answered. "Her husband never came home and she lost her job and … anyway, she has one now so there will be six children there for the holidays and if we add these two, well, eight children …"

"I'd love to help, Harry dear," Molly said firmly.

"I made arrangements to meet her this morning-"

"You'll need to get down to the Ministry with Arthur," Molly said decisively. "Get those poor mites out of St Mungo's. Ginny and I will go and meet Mrs Chumley and see if we can't soften the blow of meeting Kreacher and make sure that house is running the way it's supposed to … recast the charms if necessary … I'll need to make sure Kreacher has organised enough linens and ensure he's not kept those ghastly elf heads."

"I threw those away myself," Harry said chuckling as he watched Molly summon a parchment and quill. She began to scribble hastily.

"Do you think that elf remembered to get Christmas decorations?" Molly asked. "I'll need to get some more wool if they're all to have a jumper …. Goodness, I might have to use magic to get finished in time this year." She continued scribbling furiously and Arthur watched her fondly.

"Oh!" Molly exclaimed suddenly. "Ginny, go and wake Fleur. She can come and help us. We'll need to introduce Mrs Chumley to the food vendors in Diagon Alley and set up an account system with them and I'll try and figure out a way for her to contact St Mungo's so that she can call them if one of the children are ill. I'll take my kitchen charms book ... I'm sure Kreacher is capable of many things but setting up a woman's kitchen isn't one of them. I'll Muggle proof it so the poor dear can make a cup of tea without calling on that elf all the time. All right then, you two, off to the Ministry. We only have a few weeks until Christmas!"

She bustled out of the kitchen, pushing Ginny in front of her. Arthur watched her fondly.

"Um, Mr Weasley," Harry said nervously. Arthur turned to look at him, raising his eyebrows.

"Arthur," the older man said softly. Harry nodded and cleared his throat.

"I was wondering if …" Harry took a deep breath. "Would you be on the board, too? It's just, you know more about kids than any man I know and you work for the Ministry and Andromeda has her hands full with Teddy and Mrs Chumley's a Muggle so … and I don't have a clue what I'm doing. Not really."

"Andromeda's on the board?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I figured since I was about to dismantle the Black family fortune and turn the ancestral home into … well ... an orphanage, there should be a Black on the board. I didn't think Narcissa and I would get along."

Arthur chuckled before nodding briefly.

"You have some sort of paperwork for this, I gather?"

"Percy's got it," Harry said.

"No doubt he can rustle up the paperwork to apply for guardianship of these two," Arthur said, waving at the paper. "Let's Floo him, see if he can't meet us at the Ministry and then we can meet up with the ladies later, while there's still daylight. I'm sure you two can think of better things to do than stay cooped up with a couple of old folks like us."

"Erm …"

"Harry," Arthur said suddenly, "you are being careful, aren't you?" Harry froze.

"Well, I – ah …" Harry dragged a hand through his hair nervously, unable to look Ginny's father in the eye. "She, um … Mum taught her the charms-"

"With her heart," Arthur said gently. Harry looked Arthur directly in the eye for the first time since the other man had said he knew everything that went on inside the walls of his home. "Ginny's right, it is a special bond. She has to trust you, open up to you and give you her heart. Are you being careful with it?"

"We didn't wait," was all Harry said, studying the floor intently. "I'm sorry."

"Not everybody waits," Arthur said in the same quiet, gentle tone. "There's no rule that says you have to. Some people do, I guess – the churchgoing folk mostly. My great grandfather was religious; I used to go to church with him sometimes as a very small boy, before he died. My own father was never particularly religious but he always said to me, 'It's important to respect witches, Arthur. Never treat them different to how you'd treat your mother.'

"I can't tell you what to do, Harry, you know that; but the commitment you've shown to my Ginny is clear; hers for you is unwavering. You've already chosen each other. I'm just a father who wants to know that the man who has my daughter's heart is being careful with it. Because she's yours now; she gave herself to you and that's the most precious thing she can give you, until she gives you a child. I just want to know that you're being careful with her heart."

"I love her," Harry said a little defensively. "I'm not playing around or anything."

"I know," Arthur said. "I can see. She's who you look for when you walk into a room. She's who you reach for when you're troubled and she's the one who makes you smile. She's the most important person in your life. Make sure she always knows it."

"I think I need to work on that," Harry admitted quietly.

"Molly said you two had a bad patch," Arthur said nodding.

"I don't think I've really dealt with … things yet," Harry said, staring at the newspaper, at the picture of the two small children.

"What things?" Arthur asked, sitting down and gesturing to Harry to take a seat also. "If there's anything I can do, anything you need help with, you only have to ask." Harry sat down at the table and sighed.

"I've been ignoring the fact that – well … um, I'm sort of …"

"Famous?" supplied Arthur with a smile.

"Yeah but it's more than that now, isn't it?" Harry asked. "These children … you said I would be able to make a difference here where even Kingsley can't. But … no one told me."

"We've tried to shield you," Arthur admitted. "It's been fairly easy. Your decision to go back to Hogwarts has made it easy to shelter you."

"But why?"

"We just wanted you to have time," Arthur said, "time to just be Harry, to recover."

"I knew there were things I wasn't being told," Harry said, "things about the aftermath of the war. I found out there were families who were homeless; children who literally have nowhere to go. I wish you'd told me."

"I'm sorry," Arthur said.

"But the thing is," Harry said intently, "it's just going to make it harder for Ginny, isn't it?"

"There will probably be a lot of demands on your time," Arthur admitted.

"I already proved I can't do both," Harry said miserably, running his hands through his hair.

"Setting up the Children's Home took your time away from Ginny?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah," Harry admitted. "I was doing that and then there's Teddy and I'm Head Boy. We had a bit of a misunderstanding about it all. Once the children are actually living at Grimmauld Place I'll be even busier won't I?"

"It takes all of us a while to learn to balance things," Arthur reassured him, clasping his shoulder. "Ginny has things to do also. I'm sure it wasn't solely your fault."

"She's been training a lot for her chance with the Harpies," Harry said. He sat in silence for a moment before he sighed. "Being a grown up is hard." Arthur laughed heartily at that and nodded emphatically.

"It is Harry, but so far I think you're doing just fine!"

"I would never hurt her," Harry said suddenly. "I'm sorry we didn't wait but-"

"It's your choice, Harry no one else's," Arthur interrupted. "But if you ever need anything … some advice or even just to talk, you can come to us."

"I know," Harry said. He looked up at Arthur and smiled shyly. "Thanks, Dad."

*************

Percy looked extremely flustered when Harry and Arthur arrived at his office. There were untidy piles of parchment littering his desk. Ink dripped slowly over the edge from a row of ink bottles tipped haphazardly across the surface. An overflowing rubbish bin was groaning in the corner as if it has just eaten a massive Hogwarts feast all by itself and an enraged owl fluttered above Percy's head.

"What happened?" Harry asked, leaping forward to catch a teetering pile of parchment as it began to cascade towards the floor.

"I told it to sod off," Percy growled through gritted teeth. "Now it's gone mental at me."

"Not the owl," Arthur said as he siphoned up the ink, "this mess. It's very unlike you Percy."

Harry looked closely at Percy. His robes were rumpled and his hair stuck up on one side as is he'd been laying on it, his glasses were smudged and sitting a little crookedly on his nose and the tops of his shoes were scuffed. Percy snatched at the owl with an angry growl and pulled the scroll of parchment off its leg. Percy unrolled it viciously and then tore it up and threw it at the bin in the corner which cowered in fear.

"Penelope told me that she would be cancelling the wedding arrangements," Percy said, scrubbing a hand across his unshaven face. "It appears, however that she has neglected to do so. This owl is from the catering company who is being rather difficult."

"You hired a catering company?" Arthur asked, his eyebrow raised. "Do be sure not to tell your mother that."

"Caterer, florist, baker, decorator, jeweller," Percy rattled off tossing a sheaf of parchment onto the desk. "And she forgot to cancel them all!"

"Well, as long as it's sorted out," Arthur said patting his son on the shoulder.

"I guess it will be at any rate," Percy sighed, sinking into his chair. Arthur set about straightening Percy's desk.

Harry just hovered nervously for a moment, taking in the strange appearance of the office and its occupant.

"Have you had much rest lately, Percy?" Arthur asked quietly as the piles of parchment flew into orderly piles at the direction of his wand. "You're looking a little … ragged."

"There's a lot to get done," Percy sighed. "Most people think the efforts to rebuild can slack off a little now. They're men and women with families; I can't say I blame them. Cyril Ogden's family came back from France last week so he took a week off. Hasn't seen them in over a year so …"

"But you're here on a Saturday, still," Arthur said as he cast a spell at the bin, restoring it to its empty state and levitating the crumpled parchment inside. "There's few people left who need to work on a Saturday, Percy."

"Well they clearly don't understand the importance of administrating things in the wake of the war's end," Percy said primly. "There are still a lot of pressing matters to attend to."

"What is so pressing you're still wearing the same clothes as yesterday when we had lunch?" Arthur asked. "Did you sleep here?"

"Someone has to see to the matter of Knockturn Alley and the rebellion of the slug growers," Percy said, shuffling a few parchments idly. Arthur raised an eyebrow at his son. Harry stifled a laugh.

"Right," Arthur said with a slight frown. "We just need some help with this Guardianship Board …"

****************

With the paperwork appropriately filed, Harry and Arthur went straight to Grimmauld Place to find a freshly-painted door right where number twelve should be, a gleaming brass doorknocker shining in the late morning sunlight.

"Looks good," Arthur commented as they crossed the street. "Filius removed all the charms then, I take it?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. He paused to look at the small, brass nameplate near the door. _Sirius House_ it read in small, block letters. It was very shiny and Harry suspected Kreacher had been polishing it more than once a day.

He pushed the door open and his ears were immediately assaulted with a horrible screech.

"_Filthy blood traitors! Defiling the house of my ancestors! Vile and loathsome little beast! Vermin! Filth!"_

Mrs Chumley was staring in open mouthed horror while Molly waved her wand frantically. Kreacher was standing there wringing his hands. Ginny was standing defiantly in the hallway bellowing back at the portrait.

"Language, Ginny! Please!" Molly remonstrated with her daughter as she waved and poked her wand in the air futilely.

"What happened to the curtains?" Harry bellowed.

"Kreacher did not mean to vanish them," the house elf said rather sadly. "Kreacher was only trying to clean them." Harry shook his head and pulled out his wand.

"SHUT UP!" His wand emitted a shower of red and gold sparks and the portrait was silenced. Harry rubbed the back of his head sheepishly as the occupants of the entranceway turned to stare at him.

"How did you …?"

"It worked last time," said Harry. He shrugged. "Now we need a way to get it off this wall …"

"What … it talks,' Mrs Chumley said nervously. Molly patted her on the arm gently.

"We'll go and join Fleur in the kitchen for a nice spot of tea and leave the men to dispose of that objectionable thing," Molly said, giving both Harry and Arthur a meaningful look. "Come along, Ginny." Ginny followed her mother but not before poking her tongue out at Harry and wrinkling her nose.

Harry sighed as she vanished down the kitchen steps. He wanted to do much more than stare at her retreating backside, as lovely as it was. After all it had been an entire morning without her company. He heard Arthur chuckle beside him.

"The sooner we figure this painting out, the sooner you can get back to it, er, her," Arthur said before turning to the portrait and rubbing his hands together briskly. "Right, first things first; how is this stuck up here, Kreacher?"

The information that had never before been forthcoming from the wizened house-elf tumbled from his mouth. Harry didn't understand a word of it but Arthur nodded gravely as Kreacher mumbled something about ancient dark wizardry.

"My mistress," Kreacher suddenly croaked pathetically, throwing himself at the frame and crying piteously.

"_Evil scum! Elf traitor! I'll have your head for this betrayal!_" Mrs Black renewed her incessant screeching, unleashing a litany of foul words at Kreacher.

Harry had never seen such a reaction in all his years in the magical world. Kreacher drew himself up the full height of his tiny stature and glared at the portrait. Then he screamed; an ear-splitting sound that made both Arthur and Harry clap their hands over their ears. The elf's hands flew out in front of him and he twisted them in a complicated pattern of swirls before throwing them up in the air. A cascade of light showered down from the sparks that began flying off the portrait and Mrs Black's screeching ceased immediately. Kreacher stopped the horrible noise he'd been making and threw himself on the floor in a wailing heap.

"Kreacher is not a bad elf!" he wailed. "Kreacher is helping the poor children!" Harry stood dumbfounded, staring at Kreacher utterly unsure what had happened and what he should do. Molly and Ginny had come rushing into the entranceway at some point during the confusion and Harry looked up as Ginny suddenly gasped.

"She's gone!"

Harry gazed, befuddled at the portrait frame which was still attached to the wall, empty, a few shreds of canvas hanging limply from the edges.

"Kreacher got rid of her, yes he did!" wailed Kreacher from the floor. "Kreacher is not a bad elf!"

"Of course you aren't," Molly soothed. "You are a very good elf; you've done wonders with this house."

"Mrs Weasley thinks so?" Kreacher asked suddenly, lifting his head.

"Oh yes," Molly nodded her head decisively. "The kitchen is wonderfully bright and clean and the bedrooms are just lovely."

"Kreacher does his best." The little house-elf bowed low, his nose scraping the floor.

"Now, I'm going to set the kitchen charms for Mrs Chumley," Molly said, gingerly patting Kreacher on the head. "Why don't you show Harry and Arthur the rest of the house?" Kreacher brightened immediately.

"Master will be pleased at what Kreacher has done with the bedrooms," the elf said suddenly, getting to his feet and shuffling towards the stairs. Harry smiled as Ginny slid her hand into his and trotted along after them instead of returning to the kitchen with her mother.

Kreacher had done a splendid job cleaning up the rooms in Sirius House. The bedroom on the first floor had been transformed into a cosy room furnished with two beds, a huge wardrobe and a dresser. A set of heavy curtains at the window matched the new carpet on the floor.

"Wish it looked like this when I had to stay here," Ginny murmured in Harry's ear as Arthur congratulated the house-elf on his skill.

The bathroom was also superbly clean and the drawing room had been revamped completely. New draperies hung at the windows, the glass fronted cabinets had been polished until they shone and the fireplace scrubbed of all the soot and grime. Harry noted with grim satisfaction that the Black Family Tree had been entirely removed and the walls were now covered in rich wallpaper. The room was overflowing with comfortable couches, floor rugs and a large writing desk. Before they made their way up to the second floor Harry stopped to examine the new doorknobs.

"Kreacher did not think Master would think the snake doorknobs appropriate for children," Kreacher said solemnly. Harry just nodded and smiled a little at the brass doorknobs, shined to perfection, a lion carved into the surface of each one.

The room where Harry and Ron used to sleep looked similar; but without the gloom and grime. A pair of twin beds and a wardrobe were the main furnishings with a small dresser squeezed in next to the window. The place where Phineas Nigellus used to hang was now occupied with a large mirror. The rest of the bedrooms were furnished in a similar manner with two beds in each room, cheerful curtains and matching floor rugs. The toilets and bathrooms were gleaming and the master bedroom showed no hint that it had once been used to house a wild animal. When they arrived at the topmost landing Kreacher pushed open Sirius's bedroom door tentatively.

"Kreacher knows that Master told him to decorate all of the rooms however he liked but this one was restored the same as it was," the house-elf explained quietly.

"I hope you took down the bikini girls," Harry murmured and was startled when the old house-elf laughed. Harry pushed the door open further and walked inside. Two beds now graced the room and the red window hangings and bed curtains gave it a look reminiscent of a Gryffindor dormitory. Kreacher had obviously found a way to rid the room of the permanent sticking charms. The walls were bare and all traces of dust, debris and cobwebs had been banished. Kreacher was standing near the oversized dresser holding a large cardboard box.

"These are Master Sirius's things," Kreacher said quietly and held the box out to Harry.

"Thanks," Harry said. His throat closed over and he couldn't say anything. He just gazed at the top of the box.

"Maybe Gilbert and Gerald would like this room?" Ginny said quietly, laying a hand on Harry's arm.

"D'you think it's a good idea for them to share?" Harry asked, attempting to grin at her. He failed utterly and to his dismay, felt tears gathering. Ginny smiled at him sadly.

"Mum can probably take care of Mrs Chumley," she said. "We could go if you like?"

"I'm sure we can manage, Harry," Arthur added. Harry shook his head, blinking rapidly.

"I'm fine."

Ginny snorted. Harry took one last look at Sirius's room before leaving. Kreacher scuttled out after the wizards and shut the door with a soft click.

"Sirius would have liked it," Harry said softly, still clutching the box. "Turning it into a Children's Home, I mean."

"Of course he would," Ginny said gently. Harry stood staring at the closed door of Sirius's room for several minutes before Arthur cleared his throat and laid a hand on the doorknob of the room opposite.

"Kreacher left master Regulus's room the same colour as well," Kreacher croaked as if afraid Harry would scold him for it. Harry gave the elf a weak smile, his grip on his composure loosening every minute.

"Let's see it then," he said, taking a deep breath.

The room was large enough for two beds and, like Sirius's room it contained a gleaming chandelier, newly-polished windows and fine new curtains. It had been purged of its Slytherin leanings and was now an innocuous green bedroom, brightly-lit and cosy.

"You've done a really good job," Harry said to Kreacher, still hugging the box tightly. He didn't know why as he knew what would be in there, or rather what he hoped would be in there.

"I might go down and talk to Mrs Chumley about the two youngsters," Arthur said, clearing his throat. "We'll probably have the result of the application early next week if Percy has anything to say about it. Will we expect you two home for tea?" Arthur looked at Harry and Ginny expectantly.

"Yeah, we'll be home for tea," Ginny answered for them both.

"Yeah, thanks, Dad," Harry said, mustering a smile and ignoring the tears that once again threatened to fall against his will. Arthur and Kreacher both left the room and Harry and Ginny followed them. Ginny stood uncertainly, watching Harry.

"Do you want to open it?" Ginny asked him, gesturing at the box. Suddenly Harry was overcome with the urge to open the box and search through the contents and he sat down abruptly on the brand new runner on the top landing. Ginny sank down on her knees next to him as Harry opened the flaps of the box.

There, on the top of a pile of papers and scarlet and gold Gryffindor banners lay the picture of James Potter, Sirius, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew that had been stuck to the wall last time Harry had been there. Harry reached out a hand to trace the features of Sirius and his father before turning to Remus and sighing heavily.

"I can't believe they're all gone," he said softly. "I'm glad I have this picture. I think it's the one thing I wanted last time I was here. It was stuck."

"So, you don't want these?" Ginny asked cheekily, pulling at a scrap of shiny paper peeking out from under one of the banners, revealing a bikini clad Muggle; her tanned skin glowing artificially and her high heels at odds with her beach attire. Harry felt himself flush as he shook his head. Ginny giggled and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek and Harry turned to capture her lips in a deep, slow kiss that left his toes tingling.

"Why don't we take this box back home," Ginny said as she broke the kiss. "No one's there at the moment …"

Harry gaped at her and shook his head ruefully as Ginny laughed merrily at him. He slipped the photograph back into the box, closed the flaps on the top and the two of them made their way quietly down the stairs and slipped out onto the front steps where they Disapparated away and back to the Burrow.

**************

It wasn't until they had returned to Hogwarts and settled into the common room after Sunday tea that the idyllic weekend was broken. Harry was contemplating a way to convince Ginny to accompany him to somewhere with a little more privacy when Hermione sat down on the edge of the couch next to them, twisting her hands nervously.

"Hello, Hermione," Ginny said when the other girl didn't say anything for several minutes. Hermione jumped.

"Hello Ginny." Hermione's fingers plucked restlessly at the hem of her jumper.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" Harry asked, sitting up straighter. "You don't look-"

"Ron hasn't written in a week," Hermione interrupted.

"He's never been the best at correspondence," Harry said, patting her on the arm. "You know that."

"But he's written every second day since I came back to school," Hermione said.

"Soppy git," muttered Ginny. Hermione gave her a sharp look and turned back to Harry.

"He writes every second day," Hermione said. "He never misses." Harry was surprised.

"Really?" he asked.

"He promised," Hermione suddenly wailed. "After last time when he left and … he promised we wouldn't be apart again and that if we had to be away from each other he'd write to me always, always!"

"Maybe the owl just …"

"Died," interjected Ginny. Hermione looked at her, horrified and Ginny shrugged.

"Pig came back just now," Hermione said quietly. "He brought the last letter I sent back. I wrote it on Monday."

"He brought it back?" Ginny went pale. Hermione's eyes filled with tears and she pulled a crumpled scroll out of her pocket. Harry stared at the piece of parchment and didn't even feel the urge to laugh at the tiny love hearts surrounding Ron's name on the outside.

"I think Ron's missing," Hermione said quietly as she let the tears fall.


	41. Chapter 41

Hello, loyal readers! I have noted all the people who have put this story on alert or favourites or written reviews – so many of you! Thank you all, I am glad you are enjoying the story and hope you will continue to do so – ten chapters left – savour them!

**Chapter 41. Yuletide**

The week stretched on with no word from Ron. Hermione grew pale and only ate when Neville forced her to, sitting over her and loading up her plate and then her fork. Ginny reminded her to go to class, to brush her teeth, to go to bed. Harry had tried to convince Hermione that Ron, never a very diligent letter writer, had simply been too busy to write. Ginny wrote to Fleur, asking if Bill was all right and Thursday morning had brought her response.

"She says she hasn't heard from Bill," Ginny whispered to Harry behind the Daily Prophet. "It's been nearly two weeks since she had a letter and she started writing in French. I don't know what it says but I think she's concerned." Harry eyed Hermione carefully. Neville was cutting her bacon for her and she sat with a goblet of pumpkin juice that she'd not drunk.

"That's it, I'm going," Harry whispered back. He pushed his chair backwards suddenly.

"You – now?" Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Just tell Kingsley. He can send someone."

"I just … it's Ron," Harry said.

"I know," Ginny whispered. Her bottom lip trembled and she caught it between her teeth. "Fleur said Mum and Dad don't know Bill hasn't written. We can't tell them." Ginny lost her battle with the tears and Harry pulled her into his arms, rubbing her back softly and whispering into her hair. The Daily Prophet lay like a blanket over their breakfasts and although Harry could feel every eye in the Great Hall on them, he tried to focus on Ginny.

"What?" Hermione asked, her voice slightly raspy. "Is it from Ron?" Harry shook his head slowly and Hermione turned away to stare at the Hufflepuff table.

"He's really missing, isn't he?" Neville asked quietly.

"Fleur hasn't heard from Bill," Harry explained as Ginny sniffed and straightened up. Hermione's knuckles were white as she held tightly to the goblet and Neville eased it from her grasp as her hands began to shake and it threatened to spill down her robes.

"Why?" Hermione asked suddenly. "Why is this happening? Must there always be an emergency?" Her voice was rising, ringing out shrilly in the Great Hall.

"It's probably just a hold up with the post birds-"

"Don't you lie to me, Harry Potter!"Hermione leapt from her seat. She was pale and shaking but her eyes were boring into his face. "We've been through too much together for me to believe that and in case you've forgotten, Ron was there too! Why haven't you gone to look for him yet? WHY?" She broke down crying and Neville pulled her to her feet and began to lead her outside, Harry and Ginny followed hastily.

The Great Hall was deathly quiet; the only sounds the clattering of their feet and Hermione's sobs. As they reached the door Harry halted, turning around at the sound of Luna's voice.

"Aren't you pretty? A bird as handsome as you should be a bit better at this," she chided the magnificent owl perched on her arm. Luna was walking towards them, carrying a sand-coloured owl with brown flecks on its wings and the largest orange eyes Harry had ever seen. It had a blunt looking black beak and large, vicious looking talons.

"That's a Pharaoh Eagle Owl," Ginny said slowly. "Sometimes, when he was working in Egypt, Bill would send letters with them. They aren't very reliable though. Perhaps they think post delivery is below them."

Hermione stared at the owl which blinked at her impassively.

"Has it got a letter?" Hermione whispered to Luna. The owl hooted, ignoring Hermione and fluttering over to Harry's shoulder. He yelped as the owl dug it's talons into his shoulder.

"I wish you birds wouldn't do that," Harry said, wincing. The owl stuck a leg under Harry's nose haughtily and as soon as he pulled the letter off the owl soared up and out of the Great Hall. Harry turned the letter over carefully. His name was scrawled on the outside of a thick parchment envelope in Ron's handwriting.

"It's from Ron," he said neutrally. The other four stared at him.

"Open it," Hermione eventually said. Her hands were still shaking and without thinking too hard about it Harry reached for her hand and pulled her out of the Great Hall.

"Should we follow them?" he heard Luna ask as the doors swung shut behind them, muffling Ginny's answer. He gathered it was no, however, when no one followed them.

Hermione sat down suddenly on a bench in the Entrance Hall and dropped her head into her hands, resting her elbows on her knees. Harry sank down next to her, the envelope clutched in his hands.

"Where's Ginny?" Hermione asked. Harry shrugged, his trembling fingers sliding under the back flap of the envelope and breaking the seal.

"Why did he write to me?" Harry asked quietly as he pulled out the piece of parchment inside. "Why didn't he write to you?"

"I don't care," Hermione whispered. "We don't even know … maybe he didn't write it."

"It's his handwriting," Harry pointed out. He unfolded the letter, smoothing it on his knees. Hermione's eyes were glued to the flagstones in front of her and her hands were clenched in tight fists in her lap. Harry cleared his throat and began to read aloud.

iDear Harry,

Thanks very much for your recent letter. I wish that you'd given me a warning about the singing card attached to the same owl and that your letter hadn't been a Howler which arrived right as we happened upon a magically-sealed cave that we had located with some difficulty. I guess whoever was inside had sealed it up for a reason because Bill and I got knocked out and chained up in a musty Egyptian tomb.

We're lucky I carry a picture of you in my Muggle wallet, you great git! Yeah, that's right, we've been masquerading as Muggles and I carry your picture in my wallet. Well, you should probably know it's one of you, me and Hermione that Ginny took on your birthday.

So anyway, the guys who locked us up were really apologetic … after a while – when they realised we were telling the truth: that's the war's over, that we won and that I really do know Harry Bloody Potter personally. Bill started off by cussing me out for having a moving picture in my Muggle wallet but then we figured the guys who got us were wizards and he was thanking me for it!

Here's a tip for the future though – if you've got your hands chained up to the wall of some musty old pyramid it's a bit hard to reach the wand hidden in your sock! They came in and fed us but … we're okay now. We found what we're looking for, we'll be home for Christmas and we're bringing presents.

Ron

P.S. The ruddy owl won't take my letter for Hermione. Bill reckons it's too fat and heavy. Stupid, stuck-up Egyptian snob of a bird. Tell her I love her, mate./i

Hermione started to cry, great heaving sobs of relief as she snatched at the letter. Harry let her have it and patted her back gingerly as she traced the postscript with one forefinger.

"He's okay, he's fine," he said quietly. Hermione took a deep breath and turned to look at Harry.

"I want ... can I keep it?" Hermione asked. Harry shrugged.

"Course."

"Thanks," Hermione said before bursting into tears again. Harry shook his head ruefully as Ginny stuck her head out of the doors to the Great Hall.

"What did he say?" she asked. She looked small and frail, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. "Is he all right?"

"He – he's fine," Hermione stammered.

"Then why are you crying like some great girl?" Ginny asked as she slipped around the door and came towards them.

"Beats me," Harry said, grinning. "Reckon it's cause she's a girl though."

"He said it, Ginny," Hermione said suddenly pressing the letter into the other girl's hands. Ginny smoothed it out and began reading.

"Oh dear," Ginny said as she scanned the letter. "It looks like we got Ron into a spot of bother. Mum's going to kill me."

"He could have been in real danger!" Hermione said suddenly, her eyes flashing.

"He's all right," said Ginny, shrugging.

"Yeah," Hermione sighed before she sat up straight. "Look at the bottom." Harry watched as Ginny's eyes flickered to the bottom and went wide.

"He actually said it," Ginny breathed. "Well I'll be …"

"Said what? What did he say?" Harry asked irritably.

"He used the 'L' word," Ginny informed him solemnly as she handed Hermione the letter.

"The what?" Harry asked in confusion looking between the girls as Ginny giggled and Hermione smiled blissfully.

"The 'L' word, Harry," Ginny said, laying a hand on his chest and fluttering her eyelashes at him. "He said ilove/i." Harry scratched at the back of his head.

"He's never said it before," Hermione said softly.

"But you said he writes every second day," Harry said.

"He's never said he loves me," Hermione said simply.

"But … he does," Harry said forcefully. "I know he does!"

"I know he does," Hermione said, "but it's nice to hear it." She folded Harry's letter meticulously and tucked it inside her robes.

**************

The remaining days of term were a whirlwind of classes and hastily finished homework so that the break would be free. Hermione had recovered her good humour and Pigwidgeon brought a letter from Ron, bigger than he was, two days before they were due to go home for Christmas.

"Poor ittle, wittle Pig," Ginny crooned as Hermione tore open the fat envelope at the breakfast table. "Did big bad Won-Won make you carry that huge letter all the way to Hogwarts? Poor birdie." Pigwidgeon pecked at her fingers and Ginny yelped.

"Don't call him Won-Won," said Hermione idly.

"Vicious little …" said Ginny, glaring at the little owl. Harry watched with amusement as Arnold, who had taken to stowing away in Ginny's pocket and darting out to steal bacon from Harry's plate at breakfast, fluffed out his fur. He could have sworn the little pigmy puff was baring his teeth – if he had any – at Pig.

"He's not vicious," Hermione crooned holding a hand out to Pig. "He's a wonderful, gorgeous, smart little bitty owl, yes he is." Pig hopped onto Hermione's hand and up her arm as Ginny scowled at them.

"How come he lets you talk to him like that?"

"Because Pig knows Won-Won wuvs her," Harry interjected, smirking.

"Can you just read your own letters and leave me in peace?" Hermione snapped, tired of the silly games and eyeing her letter hungrily.

"What letters?" Ginny asked, laughing. Her face fell as Errol landed with a splash in her cornflakes and she grimaced. "Stupid bird." Pigwidgeon bounced up and down on Hermione's arm and looked for all the world as if he were laughing.

Ginny gingerly pulled the owl out of her breakfast and pulled the letter from his leg before setting him next to her bowl. She pushed the bowl away with a frown and prodded at Errol experimentally before sighing and unfurling the scroll, noting that Liberty had swooped down and was offering Harry her leg proudly.

"It came through," Harry whispered, staring at a bundle of parchment in his in hand. "I did it."

"The babies?" Ginny asked as she stilled her hands on the scroll of her mother's letter. Harry nodded, his eyes searching the parchment in front of him.

"They're not really babies, one of them is two and the other is nearly four," he murmured. "But the paperwork is all here and Dad says he took them to Sirius House yesterday."

"I hope Mum doesn't smother them." Ginny grinned at Harry and they both laughed, knowing it was a distinct possibility.

"What does she say?" Harry asked, gesturing at Ginny's letter as he folded his own and tucked it in his bag.

"Dunno," Ginny shrugged, unrolled the scroll at last and scanned the short missive. "Bring your dress robes?"

"That's it?"

"Well it says 'Dear Ginny, looking forward to seeing you all for Christmas, Dad will meet you at Kings Cross, bring dress robes, love Mum'," Ginny replied.

"That's a bit odd," Hermione murmured. "It's not like you need dress robes for Christmas. You don't suppose she's starting a new tradition or something, do you? I wonder if she means me as well. I'm going to visit my parents but I'll be at the Burrow most of the holidays, I suspect."

"I can't imagine why," Ginny said dryly as they picked up their bags to follow the rest of the school shuffling off to class. "Did young Ronald say when he'd be coming home in that enormous roll of parchment he sent you?" Hermione shook her head but clutched it dreamily to her chest.

"He said it again, you know … right there on the first page …"

Ginny rolled her eyes and stalked off muttering something under her breath. It sounded like 'lovesick fools' but whatever it was, it was definitely not a compliment judging by the expression on her face.

*************

When they arrived at Kings Cross for the Christmas holidays Arthur greeted Harry, Ginny and Hermione warmly.

"You didn't have to meet us," Ginny said as she hugged her father. "We're old enough to Apparate home by ourselves now."

"Ginny, you don't even have your licence yet," Hermione chided.

"Actually I needed to come for the children," Arthur said gesturing at the group of students huddled together at the end of the platform with Professor Crockwell. Matthew, a second year Hufflepuff boy and his younger sister Eve, a Ravenclaw, had been in hiding with their parents and the family of a first year Gryffindor named Louise when a Death Eater raid had taken their parents. The three children had been well hidden in the basement and discovered by Muggle authorities some hours later. They were to come to Sirius House along with Marie, the Muggleborn Gryffindor who'd lost her family when Death Eaters had blown up her house shortly after she got her Hogwarts letter.

The four of them looked small and lost and Hermione hurried over to bring them over to meet Arthur.

"Oh," Ginny smiled as the students began trailing after Hermione. "Where's Mum then?"

"She's at Sirius House," Arthur answered with a smile. "I told Mrs Chumley we'd bring her boys along. I'll ah, need your help to round them up."

It wasn't long before Gilbert and Gerald were standing with them and the little group of students who'd be going to Sirius House for the holidays. Gerald was scowling and Gilbert was bouncing on his toes excitedly, waving to Dexter and Othello as they left with their parents.

"Where's Hamish?" Harry asked, surveying the assorted trunks in front of him. They were topped with Liberty's cage, Crookshanks's carrier and the little travel tote for Arnold that Ginny had recently acquired as a gift from George.

"Oh, he's staying at school for a couple of days and then his mum's picking him up and they're going to Switzerland for Christmas!" Gilbert babbled excitedly. "He said he'd probably visit the place where they make those Every Flavour Beans and Chocolate Frogs and stuff and bring us back a iheap/i of stuff! He's so lucky. I'm going to travel when I'm bigger. Did you ever want to travel Mr – Harry? I mean I think going camping sounds fabulous and Dexter reckons they always go camping for the World Cup and we might be able to go with him next time. Have you been to the World Cup? Did you like it? Was there camping?"

"Yeah, I don't much like camping," Harry muttered.

"Mum reckons you helped her get a job at this place," Gilbert prattled on, dancing about. "Have you seen where we're going?"

"Yes I have," Harry murmured, staring helplessly at Mr Weasley who was eyeing the large pile of trunks and other baggage with a frown.

"Is it a big place?" Gilbert prattled on. "I've never lived in a big place, Mum said it was a big place but then she's never seen Hogwarts. She said me and Gerald might have to share a room because of all the other kids but I don't mind that because we usually share a room. It'll be fun having other kids around though. I don't know the girls very well ... D'you think boys can be friends with girls? I've not got any friends that are girls yet at Hogwarts. Dexter reckons girls are yucky but you seem to really like 'em, Harry." Gilbert looked up at him expectantly and Harry could see Arthur smirking at him.

"Yes, I think you can be friends with girls," Harry said eventually, shaking his head at Ginny who was dissolving in helpless laughter.

"Right then!" Arthur said rubbing his hands together. "Glad you could all join us for the holidays. Well not exactly us, because the house isn't big enough for all of us, but we'll see a bit of you I expect. Let's get going and see if Molly isn't waiting for us with some hot chocolate. She'll have my hide if I let you stand here freezing your ears off much longer! Right then … I'm not good at shrinking things and we can't take one of those trolley things down the street. You lot are all dressed right for Muggle streets?" He cast a glance around the group; Gerald still scowling heavily, Gilbert still bouncing and the four orphaned students staring at Harry in awe.

Hermione smiled and went to her trunk, extracting a familiar beaded bag. It didn't take long for all the trunks to be swallowed up into the one bag which Arthur insisted on carrying. Hermione tried to explain that Muggle men didn't carry beaded handbags but Arthur was having none of it, consenting only to Hermione casting a mild Confounding charm on the bag so that it appeared to be a brown leather satchel to any Muggle who looked closely at it. Harry picked up Liberty's cage and Hermione and Ginny each carried their pets and the group left Kings Cross and braved the chill to take the short walk to Grimmauld Place.

As they approached, the wind began to howl around their legs and Harry thought his fingers were going to freeze right through his gloves. He was holding Ginny's hand but he could barely feel it.

"Next time we get taxis," he grumbled. Ginny smiled at him and pressed closer to his side. Harry couldn't help it; he smiled back at her and leaned down to kiss her soundly. Ginny blushed at the sound of muffled giggling coming from the two first year Gryffindor girls but it just made Harry smack at her lips exaggeratedly until Ginny pushed him away, laughing.

"Honestly Harry," Hermione rolled her eyes. "You should set an example."

"Oh, that's a very good example," Ginny said with a sly grin and Hermione frowned at her.

"Are we here? Is this it?" Gilbert chattered excitedly as the street lights winked into existence around the little square in the middle of Grimmauld Place. Gilbert peered through the gate. "Oh this looks like a super place for a snowball fight! I hope it snows for Christmas – do you hope it snows, Harry? Oh I suppose you won't be here anyway … unless – will you?" The boy looked up at him hopefully.

"Only Father Christmas could beat me here on Christmas morning," Harry said. Gilbert beamed and scampered up the street calling out that he'd find number twelve for them. It didn't take him long and Harry laughed as he watched the boy caper about on the footpath outside Sirius House which was sporting the biggest door wreath Harry had ever seen.

"Can we go in, can we go in?" Gilbert called as the rest of the group approached. "How tall is the house? It goes up forever!" Gilbert tipped his head back so far Harry thought he might tip over.

"It really is very good of you," said Matthew. His sister had been clinging to his hand since they left the train station. Harry just shrugged uncomfortably.

"Well then, let's see," Arthur broke in. "How about you press the doorbell there, lad." He nodded at Gilbert who dashed up the steps eagerly and leaned heavily on the bell. A Christmas Carol blasted out from behind the door and Gilbert jumped back, laughing with delight. Arthur smiled. "George charmed it."

The door swung open and Fleur stood in the doorway, her silvery hair shining in the light from several lamps shining along the hallway. Gilbert stared at her, mouth agape.

"Wow," he breathed.

"You are … Gilbert?" Fleur asked softly and Gilbert nodded enthusiastically. "Your mother, she is in the kitchen. Your brother, he is 'ere?"

"All here, safe and sound, Fleur dear," Arthur said marching up the steps and beckoning to the children clustered behind him. "Right then, in we go, straight down to the kitchen with you lot, hang your coats up here, that's the way." The children had followed him up the steps and Harry could see them clustered in the doorway, divesting themselves of hats, scarves and coats. Harry, Hermione and Ginny followed the younger students inside. The hallway was festooned in wreaths and garlands and ribbons that wound their way up the banisters.

"Wow, it's huge," Gilbert said in awe, staring up at the vaulted ceiling. He peered up the staircase. "Is the kitchen up here?"

"No, it's down …" Harry trailed off having caught sight of the space where Mrs Black used to hang. The same frame was still there but in place of the hateful woman who had screamed obscenities at those who passed was a handsome young man, his glossy black hair shining in waves nearly to his shoulders, his full lips curved in a welcoming smile and his eyes clear and bright as if they sparkled.

The portrait didn't move or speak but it was clearly of Sirius.

"How …" Harry gazed at the portrait, barely noticing as Hermione, Ginny and Fleur began herding the children down the stairs into the kitchen, Gerald was dragging his feet, still scowling heavily at his surroundings.

"We couldn't get it to move magically," Arthur said, his voice held a note of apology. "Mrs Chumley was a bit afraid of a moving one in any case but we hired the best artist we could and he worked on that night and day these past two weeks. Do you like it?"

"But …"

"I know you didn't tell us to do that," Arthur said, "but we thought it only fitting. The House is named after him and the wall needed something. See here, it's got his name on the frame and we've got frames ready to go for the children if they have any special photographs of family they want to hang in their rooms. Mrs Chumley's started things off, here." He pointed to a series of photographs of two chubby boys that were hanging on the wall of the staircase.

"Molly's got tea ready in the kitchen before going home and Fleur's staying the night to help them all settle in," Arthur continued. "Of course if you don't want to stay …"

"No, no, that's fine," Harry said, tearing his eyes away from the portrait. "It's … you've done more than … this really can be a home, can't it?"

"Of course it can," Arthur said softly. "There's a lovely meal in the kitchen waiting for young tummies and then a huge tree begging to be trimmed up in the drawing room. But most importantly, those women in there have got love just oozing out in spades for these kids. They'll be well taken care of, Harry."

"Thank you," Harry said. Arthur smiled and clapped him on the shoulder as they made their way down to the kitchen.

Molly greeted him effusively, two small faces peeping out from behind her robes. The two children from St Mungo's were shy but Gilbert soon had them laughing and giggling as he pulled funny faces at them from behind Gerald's back. For his part, Gerald was making a show of disliking everything but even he couldn't fail to be impressed by Molly Weasley's cooking.

Mrs Chumley talked animatedly with all of them, finding out all the things they had been doing and being suitably impressed by their exploits in class. The little Ravenclaw didn't say anything throughout the meal but the others eagerly told her all about Potions and Charms class and the time Hagrid had accidentally brought a Bowtruckle to lunch with him and it started making a nest in Professor Sprout's hair. After tea they all traipsed up the stairs and the children selected rooms. Gilbert raced all the way to the top of the stairs and opened a door.

"This is so cool," he shouted down the stairs. "It's just like in the Tower! Can I sleep in this one, Harry?"

"You can sleep wherever you like," Harry said, swallowing the lump in his throat, knowing Sirius would approve of this exuberant boy taking over his bedroom. Ginny sensed how difficult this was for Harry and squeezed his hand tightly.

"He'd like this," she said and Harry nodded. Gerald had taken Regulus's old room and the trunks had been delivered to their owners' new bedrooms before everyone gathered in the drawing room.

It was after midnight when Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys arrived back at the Burrow. They spent all evening trimming the huge tree Hagrid had sent over and Harry was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

It was late when Harry woke the next morning. Weak sunlight filtered through the tiny window in Ron's room and Harry's watch told him it was half past ten.

"Blimey," he muttered, scrambling out of bed and searching hastily for a pair of trousers. He pulled a jumper over his head and donned a pair of thick socks and a pair of battered trainers before heading downstairs to breakfast.

The kitchen was deserted except for Angelina, sitting at the table reading iThe Daily Prophet/i and drinking a cup of tea.

"Morning, Harry," she said. "Molly left you some breakfast." She gestured to a plate that lay on the table.

"Where is everyone?" Harry asked, sitting opposite her and sliding the plate towards himself.

"Hermione's gone to visit her parents," Angelina said, "and Ginny and George are having a conversation with their parents, in there." She gestured towards the living room.

"Oh," Harry raised an eyebrow and began to eat. "And you're sitting out here all alone because …?"

"Waiting for Georgie," she said. "I was talking to Fred but it got too cold out there." She shivered a little and stared out the window.

"How is … um how are you?" Harry asked. Angelina shrugged and began folding creases in one of the serviettes sitting on the table.

"They're telling Ginny about the baby," said Angelina a bit distractedly as she pulled the serviette into the shape of a bird.

"Oh, okay," Harry said as he chewed his breakfast. She didn't seem very talkative and Harry had no idea what to say. He was glad when George bounded into the room only a moment later.

"Harry! You're awake! Finally!" he said as he swooped over to Angelina and wrapped his arms around her from behind. Harry watched as she turned her head to George slightly and he pressed a kiss to her cheek, one of his hands coming to rest on her stomach.

"I am," was all Harry said as he watched Angelina smile for the first time since he'd come down and present the bird to George on one open palm. George loosened his hold on her and pulled his wand out. He waved it at the bird and charmed it to fly around the kitchen.

It would have been fluid and graceful except that Ginny walked in at the precise moment it flew past the door and it smacked her in the face, unfolding and falling flat to the floor, twitching feebly. Ginny scowled at the serviette before she looked up at Angelina and George.

"Well, congratulations," she said with a smile.

"Thanks," Angelina said, smiling back.

"Well, now that you both know our news …"

"I didn't tell Harry," Angelina interrupted.

"Harry already knows," George said.

"No, I didn't tell him about the wedding."

"The what?" Both Harry and Ginny stared at the other couple in shock.

"Christmas Eve," George said.

"That was … fast," Ginny said, sitting abruptly in the chair next to Harry.

"You'll come, won't you?" Angelina said anxiously. Ginny eyed her carefully.

"Of course," she said, leaning forward slightly. "I wouldn't miss it."

"Angie's been worried that you wouldn't want anything to do with it," George said quietly.

"Why?" Ginny asked, frowning.

"I know how you feel about Fleur," Angelina said.

"Yeah but she's all … girly," Ginny said with a grimace. Angelina burst into tears and Ginny looked increasingly alarmed.

"See?" George said, patting his fiancée on the arm. "I told you, she's fine with it."

"I can be girly," Angelina wailed. George grinned at her.

"I know …" he trailed off suggestively and Angelina hit him on the arm.

"Oh I'm very pleased," Ginny said getting up and sliding into a chair next to Angelina. "George couldn't choose anyone better."

"Really?" Angelina sniffed.

"No, he couldn't," Ginny reassured her. "I know you didn't really expect this but … he's happier than he's been for months." Ginny took her hands and squeezed them in her own.

"My family's a bit disappointed in me," Angelina confessed. "They keep looking at me sadly, as if I won't ever be happy, you know. They think … they think I might be settling for something."

"Honey, no one ever isettles/i for George," Ginny said with a smirk. Angelina laughed and wiped away the remnants of the tears on her cheeks. Ginny handed Angelina a conjured handkerchief. "Are you happy?"

"Yes," Angelina whispered.

"Then you need to start acting like it," Ginny said with finality. "Now, you aren't going to make me wear some sort of soppy dress to this thing are you?"

"Nope, you can wear what you like," George said, running a hand across Angelina's shoulders. She shivered visibly at his touch.

"Is this why Mum said to bring dress robes?" Ginny asked suddenly.

"Dress robes?" George asked blankly.

"Well it is a wedding …" Ginny trailed off and shrugged.

"Whatever you like, Ginny," George repeated. Ginny nodded and watched as George ran his hands down Angelina's arms and across to rest on her slightly swollen stomach. He smiled slightly as he looked down at his hands and then kissed Angelina's cheek.

"Well, okay then," Ginny said. George nodded briefly before pulling Angelina out of her seat.

"Let us go and see a man about a dog!"

"A what?"

"Dunno," George shrugged, laughing. "I heard a Muggle say it once and it sounds funny." Angelina grinned at him and the two of them linked arms and headed for the cloaks near the back door.

They slipped out, laughing and joking. Harry saw George tuck his hand into Angelina's and then they were gone, the door swinging shut silently behind them.

"Big news," Harry said quietly into the stillness.

"Yeah," Ginny was staring at nothing. Suddenly she straightened and turned to Harry. "How'd you already know she was having a baby?"

"George told me last time we visited," Harry confessed.

"And you didn't say anything?"

"He asked me not to," Harry said. Ginny nodded slightly before sitting pensively and watched him finish eating.

"It's pretty big," Ginny said. Harry looked up at her tone. She was staring at her hands, but she wasn't really seeing them, he could tell. "Big news I mean."

"Yeah …" Harry trailed off, uncertain what she was thinking.

"I mean, it's good news," Ginny said. "Well sort of, it's not news I'd want to get – oh, I mean right now. I don't mean forever, um … one day I could use news like that … probably … Merlin, I'm messing this up."

"Me either," Harry said firmly, abandoning his breakfast. "I don't mean forever either. Merlin knows I want to have children, but …"

"I'm not even eighteen," Ginny said, "but if you had asked me this time last year I would have told you I wanted to have a baby and it would have been true."

"Why?" Harry asked, not understanding. She had been only sixteen and a half then, still in school. It had been the middle of a war.

"The one thing that would have been … did you know one of the first years died, right before Christmas?" Ginny said. Harry shook his head, stunned.

"No," he said softly, gently, the horror in his mind threatening to overcome him.

"I didn't know him, not well," Ginny said, a silent tear rolling down her cheek. "His name was Duncan. He was just a little Hufflepuff kid who forgot he wasn't supposed to speak in the hallways and … and … he didn't survive the torture." Ginny dissolved in tears and Harry pulled her into his lap, rocking her gently, the horrible tale too awful to believe.

"Oh, Ginny," he whispered into her hair.

"There is only one thing that could take away that horrible, awful feeling," Ginny said quietly as her sobs subsided. "I think that's why Angelina and George are so at peace with this. They're both so … it's like a balm. I was eating breakfast when Angelina arrived and George he just … I couldn't believe it. His face just lit up when he saw her. You know how he's looked jumpy or jittery for months? Like he's always looking behind him or next to him for something and sometimes he stops, like he's waiting for someone else to say something or do something?"

Harry nodded. He'd seen George stop and turn to look for his twin. He'd seen him leave doors open a little longer than necessary or hesitate before sitting in a chair that had no empty seat next to it. He'd seen George sit, staring into space wearing one of Fred's old jumpers and twirling the wrong wand in his hand.

"This morning he was … different," Ginny said slowly. "I don't know how exactly, he's still sad. It's so awful to see him sad. But he smiled and his eyes sort of wrinkled up at the edges and it was like his eyes were smiling too. Of course, when he inexplicably kissed her belly I may have asked a few too many pointed questions."

"He looked different." Harry smiled. "It's a bit unexpected but I think it's a good thing for George."

"I don't know if this is a truly healthy thing, but it's a good thing," said Ginny, nodding. "I know all I wanted to do that day we found out about Duncan was smash things but … Tonks sent me a letter. I don't know how it got through. Fred and George had charmed some sort of quill to write in code I think. She wrote all about being pregnant and feeling the baby kick and it was just … so beautiful and I wished that I was pregnant because it sounded so wonderful and hopeful and we were running out of hope fast. That's what this is for them. It's hope."

******************

The next two days passed in a flurry of activity. Penelope ihad/i forgotten to cancel the church and George and Angelina had taken Percy up on the offer to use it for their ceremony.

"Too cold to get married outside," George said, on Monday morning, waving at the blanket of snow that had fallen overnight.

"Well it's a good thing you've not invited many people then, if you want to have the reception here," said Molly as she scrubbed vigorously at the kitchen windows. "Merlin knows we don't have a lot of room inside."

"I don't think we need a big to-do," George said quietly from his seat at the table where he'd been told to sit and shine a few ancient pieces of battered silverware.

"Oh nonsense," Molly scoffed, handing Harry and Ginny some cleaning rags and pointing them to an already pristine shelf in the corner of the kitchen. "A few decorations aren't a big to-do."

"Christmas decorations are fine, Mum," George said wearily.

"I don't mind," Molly insisted, standing back to inspect the windows. "You could have a lovely purple theme or perhaps blue. You've always looked nice in blue. Wouldn't take long at all to hang a few streamers, maybe coax a few more fairies out to light the place up. Oh, we could get your father to see if he could borrow that marquee, the one with the heater, from that fellow at the Ministry. Oh … what's his name … Figgers, Fidgeon … Fedders …"

"We've only invited close family, Mum," George said, setting a silver tureen down with a thump, "for a bite to eat, not a three course meal."

"Yes, I know, and you're lucky that Auntie Muriel isn't very put out," Molly said with a sniff. "If she hadn't already planned a trip down to see Great Uncle Jasper I wouldn't hear the end of it for months. So, purple or blue?"

"What?" George asked, scowling at the three silver goblets he was to polish.

"For a colour scheme, dear," Molly said patiently, inspecting a tray that she had pulled from the pantry.

"We don't need a colour scheme, Mum," George replied. "I told you, Christmas decorations are fine."

"Just string up some extra mistletoe," Ginny said cheekily and grinned at George. He smiled back weakly.

"I do hope Ron and Bill are back in time," Molly said as she unearthed more serving trays and platters from a cupboard under the sink and piled them on the table. "The wedding is in three days!"

"She says that like I don't know," George muttered mutinously.

"Now, have you got your robes, dear?"

"Yes, Mum."

"I should make sure Ron's dress robes are nice and pressed-"

"It doesn't matter," George said, pushing his chair back. "I told you, I don't care if you all wear dress robes or not. Let the poor bloke wear what he likes."

"Well …" Molly trailed off uncertainly before taking a deep breath. "If he's going to stand up with you-"

"He's not," George said shortly.

"Oh, did you ask Percy then?" Molly asked. "Is he all right with being in a wedding? It's just he's not been very interested, not that I can blame him, poor boy."

"No, I didn't ask Percy," George said. "Can we just drop it please?"

"We really should fill out the programmes," Molly said, frowning. "You need to decide who your best man is going to be-"

"No," George said, clutching the back of the chair. "No best man."

"Well you need to have someone-"

"No!" George said through gritted teeth. "No colour schemes, no heated monstrosities in the garden and no best man! There isn't one!"

"I'm sure one of your brothers would be happy-"

"No," George whispered, his voice anguished. "Not one of them." Without warning George threw aside the chair he'd been clutching. It crashed to the floor and cracked apart down the middle. The noise brought Arthur racing in from the sitting room where he'd been sent to polish picture frames. Harry and Ginny stood motionless as George began hurling the silver he'd been polishing to the floor, the ancient pieces bouncing wildly across the floor, fresh dents marring their surface.

Arthur dropped the polishing cloth in his hand and raced to his son, folding his arms around him and stopping the senseless destruction. George sank to the floor, bringing his father with him and turned and began sobbing helplessly.

"No best man," George whispered over and over again. "No best man, he's gone."

"Okay," Arthur said quietly, holding George, tears dripping down his own nose and into his son's hair. "No best man. You don't have to have a best man." He stayed on the floor rocking George as if he were a little baby and Molly sank into a chair, her face white and her hands shaking. Ginny began levitating the silverware back onto the table and Harry quietly began repairing the dents as best he could.

Things remained a little tense at the Burrow until the next morning when, in the middle of shining all the candlesticks in the house, the back door flew open and a flurry of snow blew in along with two figures, shrouded in cloaks and scarves.

"It's a bit nippy here." Ron's voice floated out from one of the shrouded figures and Hermione, who had been scowling at a particularly lopsided and tarnished candlestick, leapt to her feet and threw her arms around him, not waiting for him to unwind the scarf or remove his cloak.

"Let a man breathe, Hermione," Ron mumbled. Bill chuckled as he shrugged off his cloak and hung it by the back door.

"I love you too," Hermione said, still clinging tightly to his neck. Ron somehow managed to extricate the scarf from his neck and face, the tips of his ears red with embarrassment. He smiled sheepishly at Hermione.

"Missed you," he said softly.

"Missed the mistletoe too, you great git!" George called, pointing his candlestick above Ron's head. Harry stifled a snort and Ginny giggled as Ron's gloved hand gave George a two fingered salute and he bent his head to kiss Hermione, heedless of his audience.

"We're still he-ere!" George sang, several minutes later and Ron broke the kiss to glare at his brother.

"You're ruining this for me," he said.

"Take it into the other room then," George said. "I don't want to lose my toast - we just had breakfast."

"Oh! Is there any left?" Ron asked eagerly. Hermione gave him such a look of reproach that he bent to kiss her again without another word.

The wedding preparations were interrupted briefly by the news that Bill and Ron had just come from Sirius House where they had delivered a particularly special present to the Chumley's.

They'd found Gilbert and Gerald's father.

"I mean he's not quite the same as he was," Ron said as he tucked into a large roast beef sandwich at the lunch table. "Splinched himself getting out of the Ministry, he did, mangled up his left arm good and proper, but he's still pretty handy with most things."

Ron and Bill had uncovered a group of at least ten men who'd fled England and spent the past week madly contacting the small groups of other witches and wizards who were hidden and scattered across Europe and the Middle East.

"They built up an incredible hidden network," Bill explained. "But they'd hidden themselves in the Muggle world so well none of them had been able to verify the few vague rumours they'd heard about the end of the war. Most of 'em were so badly frightened or injured that they couldn't get home and check. None of them managed to hold down a Muggle job long enough to do more than eat, let alone earn a plane fare and none of 'em were willing to just land back in Diagon Alley or risk their magic being tracked."

"They're all coming home now?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Ron answered, "Kingsley's givin' 'em all a hand and anyone we know about should be home before New Year's."

The news of this success dissipated any lingering tension and Ron and Bill's return, together with Charlie's arrival from Romania, meant the Burrow began to feel a lot more like Christmas. Charlie had arrived bearing a new scorch mark on his neck and a sackful of Christmas gifts. The only thing that marred the approaching festivities was the still gaping, aching hole where Fred used to be.

******************

The afternoon before George's wedding Bill suggested having a night out. Charlie wholeheartedly agreed with Bill.

"Well, a night in really," Charlie clarified, gesturing at the swirling snow. "Bit cold out."

"A night in where?" George asked from the couch in the Burrow's sitting room, his head resting on Angelina's shoulder as he stroked her stomach gently.

"Shell Cottage," Bill replied. "We'll all go there, just the lads. Leave the ladies to do something … ladylike and have a few drinks."

"It's a big Muggle tradition," Charlie said from his seat near the fireplace.

"Is it really?" Arthur asked excitedly, laying down his newspaper.

"Oh yeah," Charlie said carelessly. "They reckon it's like a farewell to the bachelor life. Call it a … buck's party I think."

"What do you do at a buck's party?" Ron asked.

"Drink and talk of fine women," chortled Charlie.

"Sounds like a brilliant plan!" Bill proclaimed.

"Eet sounds ridiculous," said Fleur from the doorway, her arms were crossed and she looked particularly put out. Harry heard Angelina snigger at the look on Bill's face.

"Ah, but my dear sister-in-law," Charlie said in an almost perfect imitation of Professor Slughorn, "the ladies also have a gathering where they discuss erm … lacy stuff and … um, other girl things."

"You weel never get married Charlie," Fleur sniffed haughtily as she turned away from him. "Beel, a word." As Bill scrambled to his feet George chuckled softly and shook his head.

"Why don't you go, George?" Angelina asked quietly. "It sounds like fun and … it's not everyday all your brothers are here." George's hand stilled on her stomach and he closed his eyes. Angelina gasped and covered her mouth with her hand; tears sparkled in the corners of her eyes. George sat up straight and lifted a hand to her cheek.

"Hey," George said softly. "No more crying." Angelina sniffed and nodded. George kissed her tenderly. Harry looked away after only a few seconds. It seemed like such a private moment but he was also fascinated with watching the couples around him.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia hadn't shown each other any particular affection. They'd showered it on Dudley, of course, but they'd never done more than peck each other on the cheek in front of him. Harry secretly loved the way Molly and Arthur kissed unabashed in the kitchen even though it made the rest of their children complain loudly. He also liked watching Bill and Fleur hold hands at the dinner table and the way Ron played with Hermione's hair while she was reading.

George and Angelina were different though. They were gentler with each other and their moments seemed more private somehow, as if they were protecting something fragile. But there was still something compelling in the way they looked at each other and cared for one another. Harry wondered if he looked at Ginny as tenderly as George looked at Angelina; if he touched her as gently as Bill touched Fleur or spoke to her as lovingly as Arthur spoke to Molly. He was stirred from his thoughts by Ginny planting herself in his lap suddenly.

"Hi!" she said brightly.

"Hi yourself," Harry replied with a smile. He gazed up at her for a moment. Her hair was pulled back into a messy pony tail and there was a smudge on her cheek from cleaning whichever random object her mother has assigned for cleaning that afternoon, but she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He couldn't help it; he reached a hand up to her neck and pulled her down for a kiss.

"All right, all right," Ron grumbled loudly. "Fleur says we can go be manly at Shell Cottage. Let's go before she changes her mind. You can resume the kissing thing tomorrow." Harry felt a large hand pull on his arm and he broke the kiss with Ginny with a growl.

"Oi," he grunted.

"No one likes to be shown up like that," Ron said. "How you can express all that passion without it looking sordid is beyond me. Sometimes I feel like casting a cooling charm on myself just being in the same room when you two look at each other." Harry blushed spectacularly and glanced at Ginny as Ron hauled him towards the door.

She was grinning at him and winked slowly. Ron shook his head and mumbled something about impossible benchmarks and then they were out the door and Apparating to Shell Cottage before Harry could even wonder that he and Ginny had their own special way of telling the world that they were in love.

********************

"Do you think it matters that … we're ... you know …" George gestured vaguely at his midriff.

"Expecting?" Bill supplied. George nodded.

"Matters to who?" asked Charlie refilling everyone's glasses.

"We decided to make a go of it before we knew," George said absently. "Probably would have been better if we weren't … you know …"

"Say it with me, George … expecting," Bill chortled. George threw him a withering look.

"Mum and Dad had a talk with me," George said conversationally.

"The same one where they tell you to wait?" asked Ron. "I thought you already had that one. Even Harry got that one." Charlie turned to look at Harry and sniggered. Harry felt his face heat spectacularly.

"Yeah we got that one before Hogwarts," George replied. He continued in an uncanny impression of his father. "Boys … you may start to notice girls … when you do, you are in no way supposed to touch them prior to, during or after the wedding unless you have my permission." Charlie snorted.

"That's not how I remember it!"

"Yes well you got the Charlie designed talk," Bill said. "George here got the one designed for the twins." George gestured rudely at his older brother and resumed speaking.

"This was the 'we are so disappointed in you' talk," George took a sip of Firewhisky thoughtfully. "You know what they said to Angelina though? 'Thanks for the grandkid, dear'!"

"They did not," Bill scoffed.

"They did so!"

"Did you know that Dad tells you to wait and Mum tells you to be careful?" Ron asked the room at large.

"How do you know?" asked George lazily. "Did you get The Talk from Mum?"

"No!" Ron rolled his eyes. "But Ginny did."

"Yep, that's what Mum says," muttered Harry without thinking.

"And were you, Potter?" Bill asked.

"Was I ..?" Harry asked, suddenly very aware of the silence in the room.

"Were you careful?" Charlie asked with a feral grin.

"If he's got any sense he'll be careful not to tell you lot anything!" George said with a leer. He winked exaggeratedly at Harry.

"I rather liked our father's advice on the subject," Percy interjected suddenly. "When I get married-"

"You're going to be pure, Perce," George proclaimed, raising his glass, "unlike the rest of us degenerates!" He chuckled loudly.

"Hey!" Bill protested from where he lay on the floor. Charlie threw a cushion at his head. It was terribly wide of the mark and narrowly missed bouncing into the fireplace.

"Are you trying to tell these young, impressionable brothers of ours that you didn't …" Charlie waved a hand drunkenly.

"Have sex," Ron supplied bluntly before tipping his Firewhisky down his throat.

"Thank you, Ron," Charlie said. "Have sex, before you got married?" Bill eyed Charlie carefully and blinked.

"I did not," he said, enunciating every word, "have sex with my wife until after we were married." He smiled smugly. Ron tilted his head. He wore an expression of extreme thoughtfulness.

"That's only because she wasn't your wife then," he eventually said with no small degree of triumph. Bill grinned. George narrowed his eyes at him.

"You had sex with Fleur before you got married, I caught you that day behind the chicken coop," George proclaimed.

"Yes, George, but she wasn't ihis wife/i," Charlie said, looking horrified and swaying just a little. "She was just Fleur then."

"She has never been just Fleur," Bill sighed, a dreamy look on his face. They sat in silent contemplation for a moment.

"What if I'm rubbish at it?" Percy said suddenly.

"Everyone is," George said morosely.

"They are?" Ron asked. He raised an eyebrow. "How come everyone goes back for more then?"

"Even the worst feels bloody good," George said sagely. "Unless you get too blind drunk because you're scared witless and … aim wrong." He burst out laughing.

"George!" Percy looked mortified and took another drink as if to wipe out the memory of what his brother had just said.

"You didn't?" Charlie groaned. "That's poor form, George."

"It wasn't me!" George cried with mirth. "It was Fred!"

"Merlin," Ron breathed. "You really did tell each other everything!"

"No, he didn't tell me that! Angelina did!" George hiccupped before falling silent.

"What happens if you … well if you aim wrong?" Percy suddenly asked. He looked intently at George. "Is that bad?" Charlie made a choking sound.

"Yes, Perce, it's bad," Bill said seriously. "The witches don't like it!" He punctuated every word with a finger stab to the air above him.

"It's not too bad if they love you," George said thoughtfully. "She let him try again ..."

"I would be too mortified-" Ron started.

"She loved him," George whispered, cutting him off. He stood up and swung around to face his brothers and Harry. "She iloved/i him! What am I doing? She loved ihim/i! She should be marrying Fred, not me!" He lurched for the doorway.

"She can't ..." Ron trailed off.

"I know she can't!" George shouted. He whirled, nearly falling over, "because he's DEAD!" Bill stood up and wove across the room unsteadily.

"George ..." he trailed off and put his arms around his younger brother. George stood stiffly for a moment before he clutched at Bill and began to cry.

Harry stared into the fire. He felt sort of warm and removed from reality. He was glad. Part of him knew Firewhisky was not the way to deal with this pain and loss but the greater part of him was glad. He hoped they wouldn't all be paying for it in the morning.

The six of them sat quietly after George eventually stopped crying, he and Bill leaning drunkenly against one another near the doorway.

"Do you think he'll forgive me?" George asked suddenly.

"Who?" Charlie answered.

"Fred …"

"What do you need forgiveness for?" Ron looked at George with a frown.

"She was his girl." No one seemed to have an answer for that. They sat in silence again for a long time.

"Is she happy?" Percy asked after a while. "Because if she's happy then ... I reckon that's all that Fred wants. I want Penelope to be happy and if Roger Davies makes her happy, then …"

"You still want to pound the little snot into the ground," Bill grunted.

"Yeah," mused Percy, "bad example."

"I don't reckon you have anything to answer to," Charlie said suddenly. "If you're happy and she's happy and Fred's dead, well-"

"Charlie!"

"Well he is!" Charlie insisted in a rather slurred tone. "If Bill here got dead I'd be happy to cheer Fleur up!"

"You are so drunk right now or there is no way you'd be saying that," Bill pointed a finger at him lazily.

"I just mean …" Charlie waved an arm and came dangerously close to unseating a crystal vase on a nearby side table.

"Fred would be happy for you," Ron said. "That's what he means. He would want you to be with her if it makes you both happy."

"That's what I mean," Charlie confirmed with a nod and a swig of Firewhisky.

"Just make her happy. I reckon that's all he'd want," Bill said. He peered at George. "Are you happy?"

"Yeah," George replied. "I am with her, anyway."

"And not just because she's a good shag," Percy supplied drunkenly.

"You bring everything back to sex," Ron complained.

"You're just grumpy because you've not had any," Charlie ribbed him.

"Not because he hasn't tried, I bet," chuckled George.

"For your information," Ron said loftily, "I happen to have had some experience of a sexual nature and I'll thank you to keep your nose out of it."

"Good luck," snorted Harry.

"What's that mean, Potter?"

"You couldn't keep your noses out of other people's sex lives for love or money," Harry muttered, propping his feet up on Fleur's carefully polished coffee table.

"Fleur will end yours if you don't get your feet off of there," Bill commented. Harry hastily removed his feet, stretching them out underneath the precious piece of furniture.

"He'd have to have one to end," Charlie commented, taking a swig of Firewhisky from the bottle.

"Maybe he does," Ron muttered darkly. George lurched to his feet, and took the bottle from Charlie.

"You are all too drunk to do anything about it anyway," George said, sitting heavily on the coffee table in front of Harry swaying dangerously.

"Thass true," said Percy as he put his glass down unsteadily and loosened his tie.

"How many has he had?" George asked, watching Percy attempt to untie his shoelaces. "Just pull 'em off, Perce!" Percy eyed George haughtily.

"Being a little … having had ssssomething to drink dosh not mean one should ignore bashic sssshoecare," he slurred. George rolled his eyes at him and turned back to Harry, pouring a generous helping of Firewhisky into his glass.

"So, Harry," George said, splashing a little more of the alcoholic liquid into his own, "who won the bet?" Harry stared at him in silence, a red heat creeping up his neck and onto his face.

"Which bet?" he said casually, taking a sip of his drink. His heart hammered in his chest. Ginny's brothers all suddenly looked unbearably ilarge/i. The Firewhisky burned as it slid down his throat.

"You know which bet," Ron grumbled. "Now answer the question so I can go and iObliviate/i myself."

"You can't iObliviate/i yourshelf, Ronald," Percy said, his face inches from his shoelaces.

"Shut up, Perce," Ron said idly. Percy kept silent, meticulously unpicking the knot in his shoelaces.

"I lost," Charlie said. "I had first Quidditch win and since you spent that in the hospital wing …"

"I know I already lost," Bill commented. "Ginny told me."

"Ginny told you?" Harry asked nervously.

"Wasn't before you went back to school," Bill clarified. He stood up and wandered over, picking up the bottle of Firewhisky and upending it into his glass. It was empty. Charlie frowned at the bottle but George leaned forward, his face inches from Harry's.

"Please tell me the first event wasn't before Hallowe'en," George said. "I don't want to give Ron here the winnings." Harry shook his head soundlessly. He searched frantically for a way to get out of there but his limbs felt pleasantly heavy from the Firewhisky he'd consumed.

"Ha!" George crowed, standing unsteadily. "I knew it would take her longer than that to convince him to give it up!"

"Not by much," Harry said, horrified at the words that tumbled, unbidden out of his mouth. He snapped it shut, growing redder by the minute, before he accidentally said anything else.

"Well," George said, "I believe, gentlemen, that I win!"

"When was it, Harry?" Bill asked, slumped awkwardly in one of the armchairs. Harry eyed him warily but said nothing.

"You are so lucky we are too drunk to beat you up," Charlie commented idly. His brothers grunted. Harry thanked his lucky stars.

******************

Harry staggered downstairs the next morning. Ron was still snoring in his bed on the other side of the orange-walled bedroom they still shared. As he went past Fred and George's old room he trailed his hand across it. George had told him the room was his as soon as the wedding was over. He and Angelina were moving into the flat above the shop after their brief honeymoon.

As he entered the kitchen he could see Bill and Charlie sitting at the table, their heads propped on their hands. Percy was standing at the stove stirring a small cauldron which was giving off rather noxious smelling fumes. George was sitting in a chair near the fireplace, hunched over and moaning. Harry sidled into the room carefully.

"Hurry up, Perce," George moaned. "My head's about to split in two!"

"One would think you'd be used to it," Percy said as he carefully measured something into the cauldron. George lifted his head and glared at his older brother.

"I'll have you know I stopped the drinking a couple months ago," he growled. "Once I had to clean up Ron I realised how stupid I was being."

"Is Ron up yet?" Bill mumbled into his hand.

"No," Harry answered him. Bill jerked his head up and then winced dramatically.

"Potter," he grunted before laying his head on the table.

"How'd we get here?" Harry asked as he sat down carefully, not daring to move his fragile head.

"Fleur came home and Flooed Dad to come and get us all," Bill said. "I remember enough to know that he told us we'd be sorry in the morning."

"Do you … remember anything else?" Harry asked tentatively. Charlie turned to look at him carefully. Harry squirmed.

"You are so lucky we are too hung over to beat you up," was all he said.


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42. All I Want For Christmas Is You**

"George?" Ron called as he and Harry staggered into the tiny church in Ottery St Catchpole with a flower arrangement bigger than them.

"I think that goes … maybe up the front?" George shrugged and Ron and Harry staggered up to the altar, dropping the flower arrangement on top of it.

"Why are we doing this in a church anyway?" Charlie asked plaintively as he struggled to reattach an enormous bow to one of the pews

"Angie's family wanted it in a church and … well they're a bit … she wanted to keep them happy anyway," George said. "We couldn't find one but Perce told us the church here was still booked for today so …"

"I really do wish Penelope had been more prompt with things but, in hindsight it was a fortuitous oversight," Percy said as he hurried up the aisle with a gigantic candlestick. "Now, where are the seating plans?"

"The what?" George asked blankly.

"Seating plans," Percy said patiently, "so that we can seat everybody."

"Doesn't matter where people sit," George said, wandering up to the altar at the front of the church and idly fiddling with the gigantic flower arrangement. He stared unseeing at the flowers a faint frown on his face.

"He's getting married in an hour and a half," said Ron. "It'd be good if he had a smile on his face."

"It's not that he's not happy," Charlie added as he leaned against a pew. "He is … it's just …"

"Is he still hung over?" asked Percy briskly. He was ticking things off on his piece of parchment and his face was a tightly controlled mask, devoid of emotion.

"No," said Ron. "I'm the only one who's hung over since you greedy gits left me only half a dose."

"S'what you get for getting out of bed last," Charlie grinned at him.

"Shut up," Ron muttered. He winced as a shrill voice pierced the air.

"What iare/i you boys doing?" Molly called as she bustled into the chapel. "I sent you down here to make sure the decorations were in place! What are you playing at, standing around doing nothing? You should be getting dressed! We don't have a lot of time!"

"Mum-"

"Charlie, you need a haircut!"

"Mum-"

"Come on, we've got time. I can do it now. I can't believe we didn't do this yesterday!"

"Mum, I don't need a haircut," Charlie protested. Molly huffed exasperatedly and strode over to Bill. She flicked her wand at the flower arrangement setting it on a plinth to the left hand side.

"Now, why didn't we think of levitating it?" Ron sighed.

"Are you still wearing that earring? I thought I told you to take it out?" Molly said to Bill, hands on her hips.

"I always wear it," Bill grumbled mutinously.

"George, dear," Molly said, ignoring Bill's response entirely. "Your father brought your robes; they're in that little dressing room the vicar showed us to last week. You really should go and get changed."

"Mum," George complained, "it's ages until the wedding if I get dressed now I'll just get dirty or something."

"Nonsense," Molly said briskly. "You aren't two years old any more. Off you go!" She turned George around and prodded him towards the aisle. Molly followed closely behind, beaming at Percy. He was the only one of them already dressed for the wedding and she stopped to brush invisible lint from his shoulders.

"Everything's in place, mother," Percy said. "Do try not to worry."

"You're such a good boy," Molly murmured patting him on the arm, "and holding up so beautifully." Percy looked pained and began scribbling furiously on his parchment. Molly, oblivious to his discomfort turned to Harry and eyed his hair for a moment.

"No … it doesn't ever lie flat," Harry said. Molly smiled and shook her head ruefully before turning to Ron.

"What?" Ron asked belligerently.

"Nothing dear," Molly said patiently. "It's just you look a bit peaky. I wondered if you wanted me to fetch some more potion for you."

"Mum, you're the best," Ron breathed. Molly smiled and patted him on the cheek.

"Now, off you go," Molly said as she motioned to George, fluttering her hands in the direction of the vestibule where the little dressing room was located. "Bill, you go with him."

"He doesn't need a minder, Mum," Bill protested.

"I just …"

"It's all right, Mum," George said gently, kissing her cheek. "I'm okay. Stop worrying about me." They watched as George went to get dressed, the door to the dressing room clicked shut behind him and Molly sagged, looking worn and tired.

"Why does he think I can stop worrying?" she asked.

"He'll be fine," Bill said putting his arm around her shoulder. "I think … I think we just have to get used to the fact that … he's never going to be the same but he will be all right. He's got Angie now and … they need each other."

"Such a lovely girl," Molly muttered, brushing a tear from her own cheek.

"She is," Bill said, "and she'll look after him, they'll look after each other."

"He is happy, isn't he?" Molly almost pleaded with her oldest son.

"He is," Bill nodded. "They both are, well … as much as they can be."

"I've been so worried about him," Molly confessed. "He was very excited when he told us about the baby-"

"Were you?" Charlie asked with a smirk.

"Of course!" Molly replied indignantly.

"I can't believe he got up the guts to tell her after the conversation we had about … propriety," Harry muttered to Ron.

"Was this before or after you and Ginny …" Ron trailed off and grimaced. Harry stared at him.

"What are you two muttering about?" Charlie asked quietly as Bill reassured their mother.

"Harry's sex life," Ron whispered. Charlie eyed Harry intently and Harry felt the heat creep up his neck.

"Shut up," he hissed at Ron.

"You are so lucky this is a church and we can't beat you up," Charlie said with a smirk. Harry tried to ignore their sniggering, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring.

"He's just so … he's very up and down," Molly sighed. "Just when I think he's moving on something makes him so angry-"

At that moment the conversation was cut off by a slamming door and raised voices from the vestibule.

"Just say it, Dad!" George shouted. "Say his NAME!"

"George …" Arthur's voice was quiet, pleading.

"SAY IT!"

"There's no need to upset yourself," Arthur said, but he got no further as George came striding into the chapel; he was half dressed in a pair of smart looking trousers, his feet and chest bare.

"ONE OF YOU, SAY HIS NAME!" He was shaking, his fists clenched and his face red with anger.

"George …" Charlie said helplessly. Arthur stood behind him looking troubled.

"I want … I just want …" George's fury was fading fast and he slumped a little, looking at Charlie with pleading, tearful eyes.

"You can tell us," Ron said gently.

"I'm not mental," George said, turning to Ron, talking only to him. "I know he's gone and … he can't be here …"

"I know," Ron said.

"I want him here," George whispered.

"I know."

"No one ever talks about him!" George said suddenly. "No one says his name! How can Fred be here, be a part of it, if everyone's ignoring he ever existed?"

"No one's ignoring Fred," Ron said. "We just … we don't know what to say."

"He should ibe/i here," George said angrily. "He's supposed to ibe/i here. He's supposed to rib me about getting a ball and chain and he's supposed to fill our suitcases with Filibuster's or sew my underwear shut or slip Canary Creams into the wedding cake."

"No one is regretting missing all that more than Fred," Ron said, a grin twitching at the corners of his lips. "And when you curse us for doing it he'll be sitting up there complaining we stole his thunder."

"You haven't," George was fighting his own grin.

"You don't know that," Ron said with a smug smile. George looked at him for a long moment.

"And he's supposed to … he's supposed to be my best man."

"I know he was," Ron said, the grin fading. He paused for a moment. "We would … any of us would …"

"I – I just … I can't," George said. He was pleading with them to understand. Ron opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by Ginny stomping into the church, shaking the snow out of her perfectly coiffed hair and scowling viciously.

She was the loveliest creature Harry had ever seen.

"Unbelievable," she said. "I cannot believe I have to put up with iher/i! Of all the … George! Aren't you dressed yet? Honestly, we can't trust you to – is that a itattoo/i?"

"Uncanny," George said shaking his head. "It's like a little mini-Mum." Ginny stalked over to George, peering at his left shoulder.

"Oh," she said softly.

"It's a Hippogriff," he said. "His name's Gred." As he turned, Harry saw the tattoo of a grey Hippogriff flying in circles on George's left shoulder blade.

"It's … he's very cool," Ginny said, smiling, her eyes glistened a little with unshed tears.

"So what has got you all in a twist, little Ginnikins?" George asked.

"Oh, I just …" Ginny trailed off as she looked around the room and caught sight of Bill. "Nothing, it doesn't matter." She smiled brightly but Harry wasn't fooled and neither was George.

"What did she do now?"

"You don't even know who I'm talking about!" Ginny retorted.

"I can guess," George argued. "Mum's in here, so it's not her and Hermione's gone to help the Muggles over at Angie's. There are no other women except Fleur because Charlie here obviously has more of a thing for dragons-"

"Oi!" Charlie said. "I'll have you know that Sylvana is perfectly human!"

"Oh really?" George leered at his older brother. "Sylvana hey? First we've heard of her!"

"What has Fleur done now?" Bill interrupted with a heavy sigh.

"You've got a houseguest," Ginny turned to him, accusing.

"Yeah, I know, she arrived today," Bill said, puzzled.

"Only you're staying with us tonight so she's iour/i houseguest," Ginny glared at her older brother.

"Yeah-"

"Which means she'll have to stay in imy/i room!"

"Oooh, a kink in your plans, Harry?" Charlie asked with a smirk.

"Shut iup/i!" Harry hissed. Everyone turned to look at him and Ginny raised an eyebrow before shaking her head.

"Fleur wanted to help her family out," Bill said. "Mum said it's all right if she stays and George said it's okay if she comes to the wedding-"

"She's a nightmare!"

"Really, Ginny," Bill said, "she's a perfectly lovely kid. Fleur got to know her older sister, Pearl, when she was here for the Tournament and she just wanted to help them out. She hasn't got anywhere to go for Christmas and with their parents … gone and Pearl in Asia with her new husband-"

"You mean I have to put up with her all Christmas?" Ginny screeched.

"I think you're overreacting," Bill said. "Audrey is a perfectly lovely girl." Harry couldn't help it, he sniggered. Ginny turned on him.

"Oh, you can laugh," she said, scowling. Harry attempted to school his features into a look of proper concern but he was aware that he was smirking. Ginny huffed at him and turned away.

"Who's Audrey?" Charlie asked.

"Only the most talkative witch on earth," Ginny said. "She will chew my ear off about anything. Seamus she won't speak to, but me … ugh, she wants to be my friend and she thinks talking to me about the proper way to shine my shoes will accomplish that!"

"It's very important to shine your shoes in the correct manner," Percy said absently, marking something on his parchment. "It's always important to apply the polish in a circular motion and buff them when you've finished. It gives a better finish. I say George, did you shine your shoes?" Ginny just looked at Percy and shook her head.

"She already wants to sit with me during the wedding," Ginny whined. "She thinks we are going to be the best of friends! This is going to be unbearable. I'm not going back there, I'm staying here. If I have to listen to one more conversation about hair curling charms I will curl something – and it won't be her hair!"

"Well, if you're going to stay," George said, reaching into his pocket, "make yourself useful." He tossed her a small red box. Ginny snatched it out of the air.

"What's this?" she asked.

"The rings," George replied as he turned and went back to the dressing room. "Don't lose 'em. That Audrey can't sit next to you if you're standing up the front." He shut the door behind him and Ginny stared at the box in her hand.

"What …"

"I think he just asked you to be his best man," Ron said, amused.

"But I'm a girl!"

"So Harry tells us," Ron replied with a grin. Ginny blushed spectacularly and glared at Harry.

"I didn't tell them anything," Harry growled.

"Well, all right then," Molly said briskly. "Percy, you stay here and wait for the guests. Ginny … oh I suppose you had better stay with George and Arthur. The rest of you, back home this minute and get dressed." Percy bent industriously over his parchment and then eyed one of the flower arrangements, shaking his head.

"There is much to do," he murmured and hurried to the arrangement purposefully. Arthur followed Molly to the door of the church, whispering quietly to her. Ginny hovered uncertainly outside the door of the dressing room and Harry lingered for a moment.

"George is completely mental," Ginny muttered. "What can he possibly be thinking? I can't be a best iman/i!"

"Well … be a best woman then," Harry replied.

"I suppose …" Ginny said doubtfully.

"I just … let me talk to him for a moment?" Harry bent to press a chaste kiss to her lips. Ginny nodded.

Harry pulled from her grasp and knocked on the dressing room door. There was no answer. Harry pushed the door open. George was sitting on a chair, his head bowed and a pair of socks dangling from his hands.

"Can I … can I come in?" Harry asked tentatively. George sniffed. Harry, taking that as a yes, shut the door behind him with a soft click.

"I can't believe he's not here," George said suddenly.

"Those we love never really leave us," Harry said softly. George jerked his head up.

"What?"

"The people we love are a part of us, they never really leave us," Harry said softly. "Fred is … he's right here." Harry tapped his chest, over his heart. "You can't blame other people for not remembering Fred … you have to let iyourself/i feel."

"I iam/i feeling!" George cried. "I'm feeling nervous and anxious and like I bollixed things up and like I'm not good enough for Angie and … and like … and like …" George trailed off, his fist clenched, the socks dangling limply from each one.

"But you're not feeling Fred," Harry said simply. "You're trying to make the rest of us do that for you. He's here, he's a part of every one of us but we can't make you feel him. You have to do that."

"I can't," George ground out. "He'd be … I made such a mess of things. iI'm/i a mess! And … she was his girl." George's voice faded to a whisper.

"Stop feeling guilty," Harry said. "If Fred had a problem with what was going on, don't you think he'd have found a way to hex you by now? Besides, I've seen you together. You're ihappy/i when you're with her."

"She helps me forget … and remember …" George said. Harry waited. "She helps me forget I'm alone and she … she gets it, you know. We cry sometimes – when we remember. She misses him too and then I hold her and kiss her and we tell stories and then … we forget … we forget that it's painful."

"Then look after her," Harry said shrugging. "She probably doesn't want to see you crying at your wedding, you know?" George snorted before he sighed.

"He's here," Harry said softly, "trust me."

"I know," George sighed, "but … I couldn't have anyone replace him. Not even Lee. It would just … am I mad to ask Ginny to stand up with me?"

"Maybe," Harry replied, "but iyou/i can get away with it."

"Think she'll do it?"

"She's waiting outside," Harry said. "I'll send her in."

"Thanks, Harry," George whispered. Harry nodded and slipped quietly out of the dressing room. He saw Ginny standing in the vestibule, gazing up at a stained glass window, the light reflecting in a multicoloured rainbow off her hair.

"You look beautiful," Harry said softly. Ginny spun around, smiling.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. "George … needs you. I have to go but I'll see you later." His heart beat erratically in his chest as Ginny's hands rested on his shoulders lightly. He bent his head to kiss her softly and she wound her hands into his hair and pulled him close, nudging his mouth open and curling her tongue around his. Harry's hands roamed up Ginny's back and tangled in her hair and he felt like he was floating.

"Oi! Potter!" Ron called from the steps of the church. "Do that later!" Harry crashed back to earth scowling at Ron who just grinned. Harry rolled his eyes as Ginny giggled. He pulled away from her reluctantly.

"I'll see you later," Harry said, squeezing her hand one last time and he stepped out into the blustery weather. Ron, Bill and Charlie were waiting on the steps for him.

"Must you kiss her all the time?" Ron asked, shaking his head. Shoulders hunched against the cold, Harry just grinned.

"You are so lucky it's too cold to beat you up," Charlie said.

"Listen, forget about all that," Ron said urgently. "We have to do something."

"Can we talk about it somewhere warm?" complained Charlie.

"Yeah, you can go somewhere warm," Ron said. "You and Bill go and get Angelina's luggage and charm them shut or something, I don't know, be creative. Me and Harry'll go to the shop and grab some Canary Creams and a few other necessary items."

"We're pranking him?" Bill asked.

"We have to," Ron said, "or Fred will never forgive us!" Bill grinned and Charlie shook his head in resignation.

"C'mon, Charlie," Bill said. "I can't wait to get back the little blighter for the singing confetti!" Charlie raised his eyebrow at that but said nothing and the two of them Disapparated on the spot.

*************

At half past three, when Harry, Ron and Hermione arrived for the wedding they found Ginny and George talking to some of the guests in the church. Harry watched as Ginny smiled at some people who could only be Angelina's family. She held George's hand in her own and it was obvious to anyone who knew them both that she was his lifeline at that moment. Ginny's laughter rang through the church and George smiled at her but it didn't reach his eyes. Ginny kept greeting the guests, laughing and joking with them. George followed her almost silently.

"She's more like Fred than any of us," said Bill from behind them. "I hope he's all right …"

"I am sure 'ee weel be fine," Fleur said softly. Harry turned around to see Audrey beaming at him. He smiled weakly.

"Good afternoon, Harry," Audrey said.

"Erm, hi," Harry answered and was prevented from further speech by Audrey suddenly running at conversation like a freight train.

"It's just wonderful!" she gushed. "I never thought in a million iyears/i that I'd be spending Christmas with you all. And this is so fabulous, a wedding! They are such wonderful, romantic events! I hope I'm dressed all right. I do so like to look my best. You're looking very handsome, I must say and … who is your friend? This must be one of Ginny's big brothers. I've heard so much about you!"

"I'm, um … Ron."

"Oh, wonderful!" Audrey stepped towards Ron and extended a perfectly manicured hand. Ron shook it perfunctorily.

"You've seen me before … at Hogwarts," said Ron, raising his eyebrow at her.

"Probably with me," Hermione interrupted, laying a possessive hand on Ron's arm. Audrey eyed Hermione for a moment before she turned to look at the church.

"Such lovely flowers," she said. "Whoever chose them must have simply exquisite taste."

"That would be me," Percy said. He seemed to have come out of nowhere, which was entirely possible, his efficient clipboard held in front of him like a shield.

"Well they are just delightful," Audrey said, offering Percy her hand. "I'm Audrey, very pleased to meet you." Percy eyed her hand for a moment before obviously deciding it would be the height of impropriety to refuse the handshake and he brought his hand out from behind his clipboard to grasp her hand in his.

"Percy," he said, swallowing hard and Harry noticed his handshake lingered a little longer than was strictly necessary.

"I know Ginny from school," Audrey said brightly, unaware of the flush creeping up Percy's neck. "I think my sister knows you … from a study group. Oh, I know! You were Head Boy in second year!"

"Ah … yes … I was, er, Head Boy in Ginny's second year," Percy said.

"Well it's lovely to see you again, just lovely," Audrey said. Her gaze lingered at the front of the church where George and Ginny were standing, talking to the little wizard officiator. "I must confess, I don't really know anyone and I was going to sit with Ginny, but it seems … well, is she standing up with George? That's rather … unconventional."

"So is George," said Percy wryly.

"Yes, he and Fred were rather hard to miss," Audrey said, not noticing the shadow that crossed Percy's face and the way Ron shifted uneasily. "You didn't have to be a Gryffindor to notice those two."

"Oh, so you're not a Gryffindor then?" Percy asked, seizing on the topic that had nothing to do with Fred.

"Oh no, I'm a Ravenclaw," Audrey said, smiling. "I say, I think they are ready to start, shouldn't we go and sit down?"

"Oh, yes, right, sorry," Percy moved his clipboard a little higher as Audrey tilted her head slightly.

"Are you sitting with anyone Percy?" she asked. Percy shook his head wordlessly. "Oh, wonderful! You can sit with me!"

Ron and Harry watched with amusement as Audrey plucked the clipboard from Percy's grasp and set it carefully on the back pew before she slipped an arm through his. Percy, his face a brilliant red, showed Audrey to a seat before slipping into the pew beside her.

"She has set her sights on him," Bill murmured as he and Fleur made their way to the front.

"He seems all right with it," Ron muttered as they followed.

Sliding into the pews, Harry looked up at George and Ginny. Ginny was talking animatedly to her brother and he was smiling slightly. Ginny reached up and smoothed his hair before she straightened the collar of his wedding robes. Predominantly yellow in colour, they made Harry think of Luna although the shimmering fabric and fine embroidery on them indicated they were probably African made.

Ginny turned and gave Harry a wink. He smiled up at her. She looked just as beautiful as she had at Bill and Fleur's wedding. The thick cloak and boots she had been encased in when she arrived at the church were gone. She wore a dark green dress that floated around her legs and her hair was piled on top of her head, exposing her slim neck. Harry leaned forward, his chin on his hand as he watched her. She and George had their heads bent together in a conspiratorial manner. She laughed and Harry felt his heart jump in his chest at the sound of it.

Organ music began to swell somewhere from above them and Harry followed the rest of the assembled guests as they turned to watch Molly and Arthur as they walked down the aisle together. Molly was already clutching her white lacy handkerchief and sniffling, but her eyes shone with pride as well as tears and she hugged George before she sat down. Everybody stood up as the music changed.

"Last chance," Ginny said audibly, "ball and chain or bust." She sounded uncannily like Fred and Ron snorted inelegantly.

"Ginny!" Molly hissed as nervous laughter broke out.

George's face broke out into a wide grin, the first real smile anyone had seen on his face all day.

"Let's do it," he said and then all eyes, including his, were on Angelina as she walked up the aisle with her parents.

******************

The occupants of the Burrow lazed around listlessly. Bill and Fleur were snogging in a corner of the living room, Ron and Hermione were bickering quietly in front of the fire and Molly and Arthur swayed slowly in a revolving circle in the middle of the room while Celestina Warbeck warbled from the wireless. Several empty eggnog cups were scattered across the room and a half eaten plate of mince pies sat haphazardly amongst the yellow feathers on the coffee table. Charlie was idly munching on one of them as he gazed at Harry and Ginny huddled together in one of the big squashy arm chairs.

Harry rubbed Ginny's feet absently, the heels she had been wearing all day in a heap on the floor. Ron grumbled something to Hermione and swiftly kissed her to silence her tirade about his ability to cram three mince pies in his mouth at once.

"I'm a growing boy," Ron mumbled as he pulled Hermione closer, "and … Mum made them. I've just come back from being chained up in a tomb; you'd think I'd get a little more sympathy …"

"Oh, you poor baby," Hermione crooned.

"That's more like it," Ron said, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"It's late and I should get going home to my parents," Hermione said, sighing heavily. "I promised them I'd be there Christmas morning."

"You will be here later, won't you dear?" Molly asked, her eyes closed and a dreamy smile on her face.

"I already promised Gilbert I'd see him at Sirius House," Hermione nodded, "so I'll see you just after breakfast."

"It was a lovely wedding, wasn't it?" Molly asked suddenly. "You did so well, Ginny dear."

"Not bad for someone who had no warning," Ginny said. "I'm glad I don't have to be anyone's best man ever again."

"Who says?" Ron said. "Maybe you can be mine. That was a corker of a speech!"

"No way," Ginny said, shaking her head emphatically. "That's Harry's job … unless Hermione wants him for a bridesmaid."

"Oi!" Harry's voice joined both Ron and Hermione's in protest and Ginny just giggled madly.

"Can you just imagine Auntie Muriel's face?" said Bill.

"Speaking of decrepit relatives," Ron said, ignoring his mother's disapproving frown, "I didn't think Angelina's great uncle was ever going to leave!"

"He was having too much fun chasing that mistletoe," Bill said, his arms still firmly around Fleur's waist.

"I still can't believe he asked for a Canary Cream," Charlie chuckled.

"I wish that piece of the cake hadn't gone to Angelina's father," Molly sighed.

"He was a good sport about it," Ron protested.

"If you call hexing George being a good sport!" Bill retorted.

"It was just a little hex …" Charlie said.

"It was actually kinda funny," Ron said, "giving him two left feet and casting iTarantallegra/i." Charlie snorted and Ginny sniggered.

"So what did you do to their suitcases anyway?" Ginny asked Bill.

"Oh … just a few little tricks I discovered-"

There was a loud crack and suddenly a very iblue/i George, sporting purple hair and smoking eyebrows was standing, shirtless in the middle of the room.

"Oops … I didn't mean to do anything to your eyebrows," Bill said, trying to keep a straight face.

"So it was you," George said, hands on his hips.

"Guilty," Bill said with a grin.

"The singing, edible underwear?"

"Charlie."

"The love potion laced chocolate cauldrons?"

"Harry."

"The flashing, neon newlyweds sign?"

"Ron."

"Don't tell me the belching toiletries were Percy's idea?" George raised an eyebrow.

"No, dear," replied Molly. "That was me."

"Mum!" Bill exclaimed. George stared at her and Charlie laughed out loud. Molly shrugged and winked.

"Are you sure you're all right, George?" Arthur asked. George nodded wordlessly before he threw himself at Bill and hugged him. Fleur got caught up in it and ineffectually patted at George's still smoking eyebrows.

"I just wanted to say thanks," George said quietly.

"No problem," Bill said, ruffling the purple hair.

"All of you," George said turning around. "I – I couldn't have made it through the day without you and … and I'm sorry I said you were ignoring Fred. I know it's … it's not easy but … thanks."

"Oh, Georgie," Molly said, engulfing him in a hug. He hugged her back and then he gave them all a crooked little grin and a wink.

"I'd better get back to my wife," he said, his chest puffed out a little with pride at the words. "I think she was planning to open the champagne and … well …." George Disapparated with a loud crack, leaving behind a small plume of smoke from his eyebrows.

"I do not zink he is expecting what Percy did to zee champagne …" Fleur said idly.

"Percy?" Bill raised his eyebrows at her.

"I saw 'eem doing something to ze champagne we gave zem to take," Fleur explained.

"Doing something?" Ron seemed to be exploring the words as if the notion was foreign, which it probably was if it involved Percy playing a prank.

"I said to 'eem, what have you done?" Fleur giggled. "But I do not know what 'ee has done. 'Ee would not tell me."

"Where is Percy anyway?" Charlie asked, summoning another mince pie lazily.

"Haven't seen him in some time," Arthur answered.

"He finally left me alone once I gave that speech," Ginny sighed. "Audrey stopped pestering me about three hours ago. Maybe they are off somewhere plotting to drive me mad?"

"Maybe they are off somewhere …" Charlie said, a slow grin stealing across his features. He got to his feet and padded to the kitchen door stealthily. He listened at the door for a moment. "I can't hear anything."

"You don't even know if they are in there," Ron scoffed. Charlie pushed the door open and poked his head around.

"Oh," he said. "They're in there." He beckoned Ron to the door. Grumbling, Ron lumbered to his feet and pushed the door open to peer into the kitchen. The expression on his face when he turned around was priceless.

"They're … he's … she's ikissing/i him!"

"Really?" asked Bill. Ron nodded. Ginny leapt to her feet suddenly, pulling Harry with her.

"I don't believe this," she said. "Let me see." Bill followed them and they both peered into the kitchen. Harry was unable to see past them but he didn't even try. The look on Ginny's face afterwards was thunderous.

"It actually looks like he's kissing her," Bill said dispassionately. They pulled their heads back and let the door swing shut silently.

"That little …" Ginny floundered for words. "She … why … that's just … she's …"

"A scarlet woman?" Ron grinned at her and Ginny scowled.

"Going to make my life a misery," she grumbled. "I'm going to bed." She stomped over to collect her shoes and began muttering. "Can't believe she has to stay in imy/i room tonight, better not follow me … I'll hex anyone who comes in there …" Ginny kissed Harry on the cheek perfunctorily and stomped up the stairs muttering the whole time. Her family watched her, bemused.

"Hear that, Potter?" Charlie said. "She'll hex ianyone/i who goes in there …" Harry rolled his eyes while Ron sniggered.

*********************

When Harry awoke on Christmas morning it was not, as he expected, to the soft kisses of a certain red-head. Instead he was subjected to the excited bouncing of a much larger, louder one. Harry pulled his pillow over his head.

"C'mon Harry!" said Ron excitedly. "Get up, it's Christmas and there's presents!"

"Go'way," Harry mumbled from under his pillow. He'd slept in George's old room, no – he'd slept in his own room – and had been having a rather lovely dream without the background of snoring that usually accompanied his dreams when he slept in the same room as Ron.

"You are such a lazybones," Ron muttered, pulling Harry's bedclothes off and snatching his pillow. Harry rolled over and moaned, squinting up at Ron.

"How early is it anyway?" Harry snapped, grabbing at the bedclothes now tangled around his legs.

"It's only a few minutes before six," Ron said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "C'mon. If we don't hurry there won't be time for breakfast before we go to see the kids."

"Fine," Harry grumbled and gave up trying to pull the blankets back up to his neck, letting his head fall back on the mattress with a thud. He jumped as something soft and crinkly landed on his chest with a soft thump.

"Hurry up, put it on, let's go!"

Harry raised his head to look at the lumpy package on his chest. He felt a smile tug at his mouth when he realised it was his Weasley jumper.

"Breakfast," Ron whined from the doorway. Harry laughed and scrambled off the bed, tearing open the parcel and pulling out a soft, green jumper that he pulled over his head.

"How do I look?" Harry asked, throwing his arms wide and smirking.

"You look stupid," Ron said flatly. "It doesn't match your pyjamas and your hair's a mess."

"Why don't you go down and I'll meet you there," Harry said, laughing. "Let me get properly dressed, yeah?" Ron grumbled but retreated. Harry heard him stomping down the stairs as he pulled the jumper off and began searching for shirt and a pair of trousers. He had managed to get as far as his shirt and trousers and was pulling his jumper back on when he heard a soft voice from the doorway.

"Oh, still wrapping my present I see?" Ginny said. Harry smiled as she came inside.

"I was just about to put myself under the tree."

"Oh no, you don't," Ginny said. "That's one present I need to open … elsewhere. You should put it on my pillow." She smirked.

"I think I can manage that …" Harry bent his head to kiss her and she slid her arms around his neck. "Happy Christmas," he breathed against her lips as he pulled her close. She tasted of mint and smelled like flowers and Harry was dimly aware of a groan as he wound his fingers into her hair.

"Mum's holding breakfast, waiting for you!" Ron's grumpy voice broke through. "I thought you were coming down, not snogging up here. It's probably a good thing I came up when I did. Who knows what else you might get up to-"

"Ron," Ginny said warningly, giving her brother a cold look. Ron glared at her.

"Yeah … erm Merry Christmas," said Harry into the frosty silence. "Breakfast …" Ron just grunted and turned to head down the stairs. Harry turned to Ginny who was scowling at Ron's retreating back.

"Git," she muttered decisively.

"Um, Ginny, did I miss something?" Harry asked slowly.

"He's been in my ear about … never mind," Ginny said with a sigh. She plastered a smile on her face and tugged on Harry's hand. "Let's go down for breakfast. Mum said we can open our presents before we go to Sirius House."

Harry followed Ginny downstairs, frowning at the back of her head. Audrey was sitting at one end of the table, dressed impeccably in a blinding white cardigan with her hands folded neatly in her lap.

"Merry Christmas dears," Molly sang as she levitated a plate of bacon towards the table.

"Merry Christmas, Mum," Harry said softly. Molly beamed at him, ignoring the silent war Ron and Ginny were waging with frosty glares and icy looks.

"How did you sleep, Audrey, dear?" Molly asked, loading her plate with bacon and toast.

"Very well thank you, Mrs Weasley," Audrey replied, looking askance at the mountain of food on her plate. Harry reached over and scooped half of the food onto a plate and set it firmly in front of Ginny who had begun a harshly whispered conversation with Ron filled with hissing and finger pointing. Audrey shot Harry a grateful look as and shifted uncomfortably as Ron grunted audibly and muttered something about improper public displays.

"Oh that's rich," Ginny hissed suddenly. "You-"

"Don't bring up Lavender," Ron whispered harshly.

"Oh, I don't need to," Ginny retorted with no small degree of triumph. "You just did it ifor/i me."

"Toast, Gin?" Harry asked pointedly.

"You never call me Gin," said Ginny, raising an eyebrow at Harry.

"Well, he probably didn't have time to get the rest of the word out with you raving on," Ron muttered.

'"I wasn't raving," Ginny snapped. "You were the one who was complaining about Harry and me-"

"When?" Ron demanded.

"All the time!" Ginny shouted. "You sent me a iHowler/i and I ended up in idetention/i!"

"Detention?" Ron asked quietly. "You are having a go at me because you got detention when iyour/i little stunt got me kidnapped?"

"Oh, don't be melodramatic," Ginny said. "It's not like you aren't fine now."

"I could have died!"

"Ronald!" Molly gasped.

"I could have!" Ron insisted. "Anyway, it's her fault for messing with Harry's head!"

"No one messed with my head," Harry said quietly. Ginny ignored Harry as she glared at Ron.

"What would you know about it anyway?"

"I'm not an idiot," Ron growled.

"Never said you were," Ginny said. "But the only ihead/i you've messed with is probably your own." Ginny folded her arms smugly across her chest and sat back in her chair.

"Ginny," Molly said warningly as the tips of Ron's ears went red.

"I don't mess with people's heads, because I don't seduce them and then abandon them at the first hint of gossip!"

"Good for you, Ronnikins!" George called cheerfully as he sauntered into the kitchen from the living room.

"Where did you come from?" Ron grumbled.

"Well you see, Ron, when a man and a woman love each other-"

"I did not abandon anyone!" Ginny said hotly, ignoring George and the hand Harry placed on her arm. "It's none of your business what goes on between me and Harry! You should keep your nose out of it!"

"She's right," George said, slipping into the chair next to Audrey and snatching a rasher of bacon from Ron's plate.

"Thank you, George," said Ginny smugly.

"That's really Bill's job," George said as he stole the toast from Ginny's plate. "Your job is to stick up for Harry, here. It's in the sub clauses of the Weasley Brotherly Affection Act. Bill's the oldest so he gets to interrogate all of Ginny's suitors. Your deal is to ensure Harry is armed with any and all information required for successful engagement with Weasley females including but not limited to how to avoid Mum's wrath, successful pilfering of fresh scones and hiding when there's work to be done. You should leave noses in Ginny's business to Bill. He is the only one who can come out of it without her breaking it."

"What are you doing here?" Ginny asked George pointedly, now scowling at both of her brothers.

"Breakfast," George said simply. "Christmas morning breakfast."

"Angelina wanted to spend the first day of her honeymoon having breakfast with her in-laws at the crack of dawn?" Ron asked sceptically. George shrugged and picked up Harry's fork and speared a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

"Don't worry," George said to Audrey, who was looking at him with trepidation. "You're not family, your breakfast is safe."

"Thanks, George, taking my food makes me feel right at home," Harry said dryly. George's face fell.

"I didn't – I'm sorry … I just-"

"Do I need to send you a Howler as well?" Ron scowled at George. "Taking a man's breakfast, as if he didn't already do enough for you …"

"What are you, anyway?" Ginny asked Ron grumpily. "Harry Potter's personal defender and knight in shining armour?"

"Someone's gotta look after him," Ron mumbled.

"Erm, Ron, I think you missed the part where I can take care of myself," Harry said, rather annoyed. He glared at Ron as he gulped at his pumpkin juice.

"No offence mate, but you get into an awful lot of trouble-"

Harry sprayed the juice across the table, making Audrey jump as a large splotch of juice landed on her arm. She frowned at Harry, scrubbing ineffectively at her sleeve with a serviette.

"I have not been in any trouble all year!" Harry cried plaintively.

"How many times have you been in the hospital wing then?" Molly asked tartly. Harry sighed.

"But none of that was my fault," he whined. Molly sniffed and handed George a plate.

"Ginny," Ron said quietly. "It's just … I … Harry's been my best mate for nearly eight years and …"

"I'm not going to hurt him, Ron," Ginny said. The kitchen had grown quiet and Harry shifted uncomfortably. "You don't have to watch his back any more."

"Isn't it cute, Harry," George said with a smirk, "they're fighting over you." Harry eyed George stonily but it seemed nothing could dampen George's good mood and he hummed merrily as he poured himself a drink, oblivious to the tension lingering over the table.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, although he didn't know what, but at that moment Arthur walked in with Angelina.

"Look what I found under the Christmas tree," Arthur said brightly, pulling out a chair for her. "I got me a new daughter for Christmas!" Arthur dropped a kiss to the top of her head as he patted her on the shoulder before he moved to Ginny, doing the same. Angelina smiled shyly and Ginny grinned at her.

The rest of the kitchen was soon filled as Bill and Fleur came down stairs followed closely by Charlie. Percy arrived at the Burrow a few minutes later and Harry watched with amusement as George and Ron subtly shifted seats so that he had to sit next to Audrey. The girl beamed at Percy who shuffled his feet nervously for a moment before he leaned down and pressed a swift kiss to her cheek. Percy sat amidst a cacophony of catcalls and whistles but he smiled sheepishly as his ears turned pink.

It wasn't long before the last plate was cleared and Ron was shifting in his seat restlessly.

"Why do we have to have them all under the tree this year?" he complained. "What's wrong with opening them first thing? Isn't everyone ready yet?"

"I told you, young man," Molly said, "it's because we have to wait for people to arrive and this is the way we do it now."

"We only had to wait for Percy," Ron grumbled. Catching his mother's eye, he didn't say anything else.

"Well, I believe we have something waiting for us under the tree and someiones/i waiting for us in London," Arthur said briskly. "Switch on the wireless, my dear, let's have some music with our presents!"

Celestina Warbeck wafted from the wireless in the corner as the Weasleys settled down in the living room to pass out the presents under the tree. Harry sat placidly watching as a sea of brightly wrapped packages sailed around him and Ron tore into the paper, scattering it across the room haphazardly. Words of gratitude rang out and Fleur squealed excitedly over something pink and fluffy. A heavy package wrapped in red paper covered in fluttering golden Snitches whacked Harry in the chest and landed with a thump in his lap.

"Oi! Wake up, Potter!" Ron called cheerily, a bright orange scarf trailing from one hand and a package of Bertie Botts in the other. "Can't sit there all day!"

Harry grinned at Ron and tore open the paper on the gift. He smiled as he revealed a solid wooden frame that held both the Muggle Polaroid and the wizarding photograph of his parents' engagement. Harry searched the room for Ginny who was standing in front of Angelina. As if she could feel his eyes on her, Ginny turned suddenly in his direction and raised and eyebrow. Harry smiled and mouthed 'Thank you'.

Ginny's eyes shone and she blushed slightly before shrugging one shoulder casually. Harry looked back down at the carefully crafted frame and knew she'd made it herself. The carved, wooden ivy wound itself around the edge drunkenly and the tiny broomsticks that crossed in the middle were slightly crooked. He traced the carvings with a fingertip and watched as his father slid an arm around his mother's waist in the wizarding photo with his grandparents in it.

"Your grandparents," Arthur said softly, "and your mum and dad."

"It's their engagement photographs." Harry nodded.

"A Muggle one," Arthur noted.

"I think they must have been at my grandparents' for Christmas," Harry said, eying the sparkling jewel on his mother's finger. "I mean my other grandparents, the Muggle ones."

"Ah, yes that would explain the non-moving picture," Arthur nodded gravely.

"My cousin found that one at Godric's Hollow," Harry said quietly.

"I heard Dedalus agreed to take your aunt and cousin there," Arthur replied, watching Harry trace the carvings on the edge of the frame.

"Ginny found this one in our vault," Harry said, indicating the moving wizarding photograph.

"They must have left the Muggle things in the house," Arthur mused, staring into the fire.

"They …?" Harry gazed at Arthur, confused, not understanding what the other man meant.

"The Ministry," Arthur said absently. "The Minister then was … Molly, was Walpole the Minister in eighty-one?"

"No, no it was Marchant, wasn't it?" Molly said, frowning, a new silver hat perched jauntily on her head.

"Not eighteen eighty-one," Arthur said, waving a hand dismissively, "inineteen/i eighty-one."

"Watford," Molly said decisively, "definitely Watford."

"I could have sworn it was Walpole," Arthur mused.

"But what did he ido/i?" Harry asked, leaning forward, feeling a bit desperate to steer the conversation back to the subject of the house at Godric's Hollow.

"Well …" Arthur scratched the back of his neck, suddenly looking very uncertain. "After … afterwards they sent someone to … clean up and pack away the, ah … things in the house."

"My parents' things?" Harry asked. Molly nodded. Harry fell silent, thinking. They must have put everything into the vault and it had been there ever since.

"There was a terrible scandal after Sirius was caught," Arthur continued quietly. "Dumbledore made it very public that you were safe in an undisclosed location but there was quite a carry-on about people being able to go to the house so the Ministry put up wards and cleaned it out before it could be looted."

"But the Muggle photos were still there," Ginny interrupted. The living room had fallen silent and Harry knew all eyes were on him and he gazed unseeing at the edge of the frame in his hands. "Dudley found them at … the house."

"I expect they weren't important enough," Molly said gently. "They would have only moved the wizard things."

"I didn't know any of it still existed," Harry said quietly. "Not the house or the photos – any of it." He suddenly felt confined. He didn't know if he wanted to scream or cry or laugh with relief but he knew he didn't want to do it in front of everyone. Holding onto the last shred of his composure, Harry scrambled to his feet.

"I didn't mean-"

"It's fine, Ginny," Harry said quickly, cutting her off. "I'm just – I need to … I'll see you all at Sirius House." Harry backed out of the living room hurriedly, still clutching the frame. He was aware that the Weasleys were staring at him and Ginny looked horrified, but he needed to get out.

As he stumbled through the kitchen he began to regret his hasty departure and he sank into one of the chairs at the table, Ginny's gift landed with a thunk on the table as he put his head into his hands. It was an odd time to have a reaction to … things, Harry thought dimly as he heard the kitchen door creak open.

"You all right, mate?" Ron asked softly. Harry looked up. Ron was shuffling his feet near the door, looking uncertain.

"I just … I don't know," Harry answered. "It's bloody Christmas and I'm behaving like … like – Ginny must think I'm a complete arse." Harry sighed heavily.

"I think you just took us all by surprise," Ron said. "You don't normally have a reaction to … well … that …"

"You just haven't seen it," Harry said quietly, staring out of the window. Ron moved across the kitchen quietly and sat down next to Harry. Maybe Ron and Ginny had come to a sort of truce because it surprised Harry that it had been Ron that came after him and not Ginny.

"I saw it all – that night," Harry said, taking a deep breath. "He showed me everything, in my head. There was a pram, my pram … never really thought about it before. They must have gone out together and chosen it, before I was born. I think it just hit me, you know. They had ithings/i and I never really knew what sort of things, what they liked and their favourite colours; that sort of stuff."

"Mum's favourite colour is blue," Ron said absently. "I guess I sort of take that for granted."

"You should be able to," Harry said heavily, pushing back his chair. "I need … I'm just going for a walk. I'll come back in a better mood, I promise." Harry turned, reaching for the back door knob. He felt a hand on his arm.

"We don't care what your mood is," Ron said.

"I know," Harry smiled at Ron sadly. "But …"

"We'll meet you at Sirius House," Ron said, releasing Harry's arm. There was understanding in his eyes, understanding Harry didn't think Ginny would even have had.

"I won't be long," Harry replied, slipping out the door. Once outside Harry began to wonder where he thought he was going and he started running, his feet sliding through the slushy track that led down to the gate. Suddenly he found himself Apparating, not even thinking about it.

For one wild moment Harry spun, disoriented on the spot, shivering, wishing he'd thought to bring his cloak, the snow flurries around him whirled and fluttered as he stood, staring at the dilapidated sign in front of the place in Godric's Hollow where his parents had been murdered. Harry put a hand out, touching the sign, revealing the graffiti on it and he noticed there was a new layer of brightly coloured writing.

Harry felt the band constricting his heart loosen as he read and warmth flooded through him. He looked up at the house and his mind's eye banished the run down, dilapidated appearance, bathing the little cottage in spring sunshine and he knew they'd been happy. It was something he didn't have evidence for he just knew. Harry smiled slightly and released the sign before turning to walk back along the street and to the tiny town square. He hunched his shoulders around his ears and cast a warming charm that made the cold bearable.

The early morning light was dim and Harry could barely make out the large obelisk that hid the statue commemorating his first defeat of Voldemort. He didn't linger there but carried on, his feet taking him to the graveyard where he wandered slowly towards the place where his parents lay, surrounded by their dearest friends. Snow capped the tops of the headstones and Harry paused, wishing he'd brought flowers. Now that he was here, he didn't know why he'd come, he stared at the memorial headstone for Sirius and sighed heavily.

"Happy Christmas," he said softly. "I've been thinking … well not that long really, I sort of came here by accident." Harry grimaced and began pacing. "I must have meant to, I just didn't know I meant to. Now I'm babbling, the five of you must think I'm a complete idiot. I promise Teddy'll learn not to babble." Harry stared at Tonks's name, thinking of his godson. Teddy was crawling all over the place now and pulling up onto chairs and other furniture, trying to stand.

"He's doing really good," Harry said, feeling the need to say something that wouldn't sound utterly stupid. "Well, I mean … he's doing really well. Got teeth, likes to bite, can't do anything about that though, sorry Remus." Harry grinned, remembering the last time Teddy had latched onto his finger and nearly drawn blood. "Fine set of choppers … he's a fine kid, really and … I'm lucky to have him in my life, I reckon, like Ginny ... she's the best. We … I'm going to marry her one day. I think she already knows that. She's brilliant and beautiful and sexy." Harry turned to his parents' headstones. He sighed heavily.

"I wish you could meet her," he said softly. "I wish she could meet you. She might not want to any more, though. She gave me a brilliant Christmas present; made it herself and everything. And I ended up flipping out and leaving when it made me think of … you. She probably thinks I'm a complete idiot."

"No she doesn't," Ginny's soft voice broke into his thoughts and Harry swung around to see her standing in the snow, wearing the emerald green cloak he'd put under the Christmas tree for her. His own cloak filled her arms and she held it out to him mutely. Harry put it on and just stared at her.

"I'm sorry," Harry said eventually. "I just – I felt sort of … it was …"

"It's a lovely cloak," Ginny blurted, "really warm and I love the colour." She blushed spectacularly and swore under her breath.

"Mum, Dad – this is Ginny." Harry felt a slow smile spread over his face and Ginny giggled. Harry reached for her hand and tugged her close, sliding his arms around her waist and resting his forehead against hers. Ginny reached up to press a kiss to his lips.

"Done being maudlin?" she asked him lightly.

"Yeah," Harry breathed. "I'm sorry, I don't know what happened; I just felt so …"

"Emotional?" Ginny asked.

"I guess," Harry sighed.

"Happens to the best of us," Ginny quipped.

"How'd you know I was here?"

"Ron … he …" Ginny bit her bottom lip. "He knew. I think he knows you best."

"It's not a competition," Harry said softly.

"I know!" Ginny cried twisting out of his grip. She took a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair, knocking the hood of her cloak askew. "We had ... words this morning – before you got up."

"What about?" Harry prompted.

"I thought he was jealous because we've slept together," Ginny said bluntly. "But he was worried because you haven't talked to him about it and he's worked himself up into all sorts of bother over it. He doesn't know how you feel and he's worried I might hurt you and he feels like … like he can't protect you."

"I can't talk to your brother about that!" Harry gaped at her. "He'd kill me if I tried!"

"Well, I don't think he wants idetails/i," Ginny said dryly. Harry didn't say anything. Ginny sighed. "The children will be wondering where we are."

"Yeah," Harry said softly. He gazed at Ginny. "He's my best mate."

"I know," Ginny said softly, reaching up to brush the hair away from his face. "He took your presents to Sirius House for you." Harry smiled as he pulled her close and kissed her before Apparating them both to the steps at Grimmauld Place.


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43. Missing**

The excessively frigid weather persisted well into the New Year and Harry took to layering himself in several of his Weasley jumpers, multiple pairs of socks, his cloak and gloves inside the castle. Ginny complained more than once that it took an adverse amount of time to get him out of the extra layers but he always made it up to her once she'd managed it. Ginny frequently grimaced as Hermes limped, half frozen, into the Great Hall during breakfast and made his way to the Ravenclaw table. Audrey never failed to bestow the greatest of affection on Percy's owl as she divested him of roll after roll of parchment tied with a vast array of brightly coloured ribbons which soon afterwards adorned her hair. Despite the conditions outside the castle, Ginny continued to practice her Quidditch skills. Harry spent more time than he ever had before on the pitch, trying to Keep against her increasing skill.

"Why don't you get Ron to help tomorrow," Harry wheezed one Friday afternoon as he clutched at his stomach, bent nearly double as he caught his breath after the Quaffle had collided with his stomach with nearly as much force as a Bludger.

"You wimp, Potter," Ginny called as she circled above him in the air. "What's a measly little Quaffle to the guts?"

"Sadist," Harry muttered as he rose back to the goal hoops. Ginny flew over to him and drew level.

"Thank you," she said quietly. Harry reached out one gloved hand and clumsily caressed her cheek before kissing her briefly on the nose.

"Light's fading," he said. "Reckon we've got about ten more minutes." Ginny smiled at him and raced off with the Quaffle to aim at the hoops again.

When they arrived back at the castle in time for tea they were nearly frozen solid and Harry shuffled up the steps slowly, hampered by the wind that began to howl around them. Together they leaned heavily on the oak entrance doors and slipped through. Harry groaned in gratitude as the barest hint of warmth reached them from the torches that burned brightly, lighting up the entrance hall.

"I am never going to be warm again," Harry moaned. "You're torturing me out there."

"Oh, I think I know a way to warm you up," Ginny smiled, winding her arms around his neck. Harry lowered his lips to hers, suddenly feeling very warm, and kissed her slowly. The layers of clothing they both still wore were maddening and Harry fumbled to pull his gloves off so that he could touch Ginny's skin. He'd pulled his left hand out and was softly caressing Ginny's face when the sound of someone clearing his throat caught his attention and he pulled away from Ginny's lips reluctantly.

"Mr Potter," Professor Fiesche said coldly. "I trust you are not about to start rutting in the entrance?" Ginny's face coloured spectacularly and Harry gaped at the Defence Professor.

"No," Harry choked out. Professor Fiesche pierced him with a look that reminded Harry intensely of Snape and he wondered wildly if the two men were related.

"I would not make a spectacle of myself if I was you," the professor said. "You don't know to what … complications it may lead." With an almighty swish of his plush velvet robes Professor Fiesche turned and swept into the Great Hall, his cat wobbling dangerously on his head.

"He doesn't know that you've already made a spectacle of yourself in front of the scariest group of men alive and survived," drawled a familiar voice from the bottom of the staircase.

"Ron!" Ginny said in surprise. Ron strolled out from the shadows and grinned.

"The one and only!" he said. "Potter, you are so lucky-"

"Save it," Harry said shortly glaring after the professor. "What is that guy's problem? Seriously."

"I don't know," Ginny said pensively. "It is a bit strange. Remember when Thistlewaite caught us that day on the fifth floor? You had your hand up my shirt and he just raised an eyebrow."

"Oi, he sounds all right then," Ron said. "Not that I entirely condone your hand up her shirt."

"Fiesche is just being mean, as usual," Harry said.

"I still reckon he's a Death Eater," Ron grumbled. Harry sighed heavily.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked him pointedly.

"Oh, that's nice-"

"It's Friday, not Saturday." Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Have to watch the shop tomorrow," Ron said with a sigh. "McGonagall said I could come by this evening."

"Where's George?" Ginny asked as the three of them made their way into the Great Hall.

"Honeymoon," Ron said shortly. Ginny nodded briefly before slipping into the seat next to Hermione who was reading a book and had not looked up at all.

Ron slipped his arms around Hermione as he slid into the chair on the other side of her and she squeaked in surprise before laughing and kissing Ron on the nose. More than once during the meal Harry felt someone's eyes on him and looked up to the head table to find Professor Fiesche staring at him. He shrugged it off, instead entering a good natured debate with Ron and Seamus about the Chudley Canons chances. He didn't think further about the strange Defence professor until he, Ron, Hermione and Ginny made their way back to the common room after tea.

"If looks could kill, Harry," Ron said, on the third floor landing, "you'd be dead. I'm telling you, Fiesche was looking at you as if he wants to get rid of you."

"You're exaggerating, Ron," Harry sighed. "He's just a bloke and he's harmless."

"When have I ever led you astray?" Ron asked indignantly and both Harry and Hermione snorted.

"Harry's instincts are usually pretty spot on," Ginny said quietly.

"Yeah ..." Ron allowed, inclining his head slightly.

"Look, he's just a grumpy old basket case," Harry said as they caught up to Neville and Luna who were lingering near a tapestry depicting several knights.

"Who's grumpy?" Neville asked absently, staring at the tapestry.

"Fiesche," Harry replied, gazing at the tapestry in front of Neville. The six of them were silent for a moment.

"So, what're we looking at here, Nev?" Ron asked briskly.

"King Arthur's Knights, I reckon," Neville said thoughtfully.

"I don't think he meant what picture is on the tapestry," Hermione said tentatively. "Why … why are you standing here?"

"There's something behind it," Neville said quietly. "I'm just too scared to look."

"How do you know something's behind it if you haven't looked?" Ron asked.

"I just do," Neville said, shrugging.

"Is it … something good?" Ginny asked.

"Something … good is here," Neville replied. "I think … I think the castle told me." Ron didn't hide his disbelief and Harry and Hermione exchanged a look that clearly indicated they thought Neville was barking mad.

"Told you?" Harry asked. "Um, the castle doesn't speak, mate."

"Was it like last time?" Luna asked. "Is this like … before?"

"Before?" Hermione queried. She, Ron and Harry stared at Neville; Luna and Ginny were examining the edges of the tapestry.

"Remember how the Room of Requirement will open up and let you out anywhere in the castle, but you can only ever get in on the seventh floor?" Neville asked. Harry nodded. "Well, about this time last year, before we shut ourselves in I was … sort of …"

"The Carrows were chasing him," Ginny interrupted. "He'd refused to participate in class and for detention they made him run while they chased. I guess they were tired of _Crucio_." Ginny's voice was hard and bitter. Hermione shuddered visibly.

"I, um … it was on the fifth floor," Neville said. "I heard the castle sort of beckoning to me to go behind this wall hanging. I thought I was going barmy at first; but then, I realised they had me cornered so I figured it couldn't hurt to check it out. I ducked behind it and practically fell into the Room of Requirement. It didn't happen very often, but … a couple of times it saved me." Neville stated blithely, shrugging as if he were commenting on the weather or the state of the roads.

"You realise how nutters that sounds," Ron said slowly. Hermione gasped. "But I've heard barmier stuff from Harry, mate." Harry glowered at Ron while Neville laughed.

"You think it's the Room of Requirement?" Hermione asked. "We couldn't get it open before."

"Dunno," Neville shrugged. "I still think I'm a bit nutters for thinking I heard something."

Ron and Neville eyed the tapestry warily for several minutes while Harry nervously shuffled his feet and Hermione paced back and forth. Ginny huffed impatiently before grasping the tapestry and pulling it aside.

"It's a wonder you lot ever did anything," she said as she gazed at the smooth blank wall behind it.

"Well … that was anti-climactic," Hermione muttered. "There's nothing there."

"Wait," Harry said, stretching out a hand and pressing it to the wall. His hand vanished and Hermione gasped. Ginny quickly slapped her hand next to the place where Harry's wrist disappeared into the stone and she shook her head.

"D'you think it's the Gryffindor room?" Neville asked in a low voice.

"Why would it be here?" Hermione asked, frowning. Harry shrugged as he took a deep breath and pressed his face through the stone.

On the other side he saw the same room he'd seen every other time he'd been there. Something was different, he realised. He was looking out from a different wall and opposite him was the portrait of Glenda Gryffindor.

And she was awake.

"Pray, young man, what are you doing? And where is thy body?" The portrait was looking at him, a haughty expression on her plump features.

"Um … well it's kinda on the other side of the wall," Harry said.

"Speaketh not in riddles!" proclaimed the portrait. "Hast thou been beheaded?"

"Erm, no," Harry answered. "I'm still attached." He pulled the rest of his body through the wall before the portrait could say anything further about his head. She looked him up and down as he stood near the edge of the large room.

"You are … a student?" the portrait of Glenda asked. Harry nodded mutely. "How old art thou?"

"I'm – I'm eighteen," Harry said.

"Thou art too old to be a student," Glenda said officiously. "Hast thee not a wife?"

"Not yet," Harry said, blushing slightly. "Not to be rude, um, or anything but … I've not seen you awake before."

"You hath been here before?"

"Loads of times," Harry answered.

"This room is sealed," Glenda said, glaring suspiciously. "Art thou a knave of Gryffindor?"

"Erm, dunno," Harry said, wondering what on earth a knave of Gryffindor was. "I'm in Gryffindor House though."

"Hast thou done a great deed of worth in service of our esteemed ancestor, Godric Gryffindor?"

"Well … I guess, but I don't think he's my ancestor exactly," Harry said.

"Pray, what is thy name?" Glenda asked him. Her portrait appeared to lean forward as though peering at him.

"It's Harry," he answered her.

"I do not know thee," Glenda said and settled back into her frame as if readying herself for sleep.

"Wait!" Harry called desperately. "What is this room?"

"Thee canst enter and yet thee know not the purpose of the chamber?" Glenda raised one painted eyebrow. "This is the room of Godric Gryffindor; placed to give refuge and comfort to those of Gryffindor, for use in times of peril. It was sealed – to open only for those most worthy – after he departed this world. There is a legend that two shall open it again after the peril has vanquished and there is a time of peace."

"So how do you get worthy?" Harry asked.

"If one is not a descendant, then one must become worthy by deeds of great courage and sacrifice," Glenda answered. "There has been no one."

"Well I guess I must have done that," Harry said, uncomfortable talking to this imperious woman. She sniffed and settled back into her painted chair.

"Thou shouldst remain quiet," she said, closing her eyes. "We do not like to be disturbed." And with that she slept again.

Harry stared at her for a moment before he shook his head and pushed it back though the wall. He laughed as Ron jumped.

"Don't do that, you git," Ron complained.

"Is it the Gryffindor room, Harry?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"Yeah, Glenda woke up and spoke to me," Harry said as he pulled the rest of his body through the wall.

"Glenda? Who in Merlin's name is Glenda?" Ron asked.

"The portrait," Harry answered.

"Oh, what did she say?" Hermione asked quickly.

"Stuff about the room being sealed to people," said Harry. He thought for a moment. "It's for safety in peril or something. If you're a Gryffindor in trouble it's like … a sanctuary."

"Well, we could have used it before now," Ron huffed, disgusted.

"It was sealed," Harry said thoughtfully, "to everyone but the most worthy Gryffindors."

"Well, Merlin's beard, what do you have to do to get worthy?' Ron exclaimed.

"Sacrifice," Harry said quietly as he turned away from the tapestry swiftly. He hurried away from the place, heading to the Gryffindor common room, not caring if the rest of them followed or not.

Harry made short work of the rest of the staircase, employing a few well used shortcuts. In only a few moments he wandered slowly along the seventh floor corridor, his hands in his pockets, thinking over what the portrait had said. He stood idly in front of the place where the Room of Requirement usually appeared when suddenly a house-elf appeared in front of him.

"Mr Harry Potter, sir," the elf said deferentially, bowing so low the tip of his nose scraped the floor and his massive ears flopped forward, covering his eyes. "Dobby said you were a great and noble hero but I never thought I would see you in the flesh."

Harry just stared at the little elf. He was dressed in a clean tea towel, the Hogwarts emblem embroidered on one corner. A small velvet bag was clutched in his hand and the elf remained with his nose on the floor, bent almost double.

"Erm … what can I do for you?" Harry asked eventually.

"Madam Pomfrey summoned me," the house-elf said. "She wanted me to give you this." The elf held the little velvet bag aloft. Harry relieved the elf of his burden and opened the bag, curiously tipping the glittering contents into his palm.

It was the pendant he picked up the first time he had ventured into the Gryffindor room. The rubies embedded in the golden metalwork glittered in the nearby torchlight. Harry started as the elf gasped.

"This has not been seen in many generations," the house-elf said reverently.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"It is the amulet," said the elf, "the amulet of courage. Some call it the amulet of fortune but none who possessed it ever found great fortune. There were some wizards who thought it cursed."

"How do you know all this?" Harry asked, turning the amulet over in his hands.

"My ancestors once served the noble House of Gryffindor," explained the house-elf. "When the last of the family, Glenda Gryffindor, vanished; my father elves had nowhere to go. The headmaster took them in for having no master is a grievous situation, indeed. I have heard stories of the amulet and the noble family whom once we served. When Glenda disappeared so did the amulet. It fell away from even legend in the end."

"I've never even heard of her … or it," Harry said.

"It is not written in many books," the house-elf said gravely. "You will have to search." He eyed the amulet one last time before he winked out of existence and Harry was alone again. He carefully slipped the amulet into its little velvet bag and slowly made his way back to Gryffindor Tower.

He'd been thinking how he was never quite aware of when something would make him remember the past so violently. It frustrated him that a few words from a portrait could unsettle him so much. Harry also wondered how long his friends would last before they tired of his frequent leave-taking. He sighed heavily, wishing he hadn't felt quite so alone and strange at his own admission of what he had done last May. February was fast approaching and the first anniversary of the battle would be on him before he knew it. Harry felt like he was still running from the truth. _'You died'_, a traitorous voice inside him whispered. _'You're not dead'_, an answering voice replied.

"It doesn't matter," Harry muttered aloud as he approached the Fat Lady. "I'm still just me."

"Well of course you are," the Fat Lady scolded. "Who else would you be; password?"

"Carpe diem," Harry said listlessly, wondering how he was going to explain his appalling lack of manners to his friends, and in particular, to Ginny.

Harry found them seated by the fire, playing a raucous game of Exploding Snap. Neville shook his head ruefully as he deftly patted at his flaming eyebrows while Ron laughed and Ginny rolled about on the hearthrug, giggling.

"Honestly," Hermione said in a long-suffering tone, "anyone would think you lot were still first years."

"Nothing wrong with ickle firsties," Ron declared loudly.

"Too right!" called Gilbert cheerfully from one of the couches. That Ron had been the one to bring home his father had not gone unnoticed by Gilbert Chumley. He'd taken a great shine to Ron since the Christmas holidays, bestowing on him a kind of hero-worship that Ron found easy to bask in.

"Come play with me," Ron called, patting the floor next to him. "Neville's got to go regrow his eyebrows and I need a worthy opponent!" Gilbert scrambled from his chair hastily, spilling a box of chocolate frogs, the packages scattering across the floor haphazardly.

"A whole box?" Ginny raised an eyebrow as she helped collect the chocolate frogs up and return them to the box.

"Yeah," Gilbert replied sheepishly. "Hamish brought them back from Switzerland – from that factory – and he reckons there are new cards in there. Brand new ones no one has ever seen. We've all been looking for them but so far we've just got about another billion of Dumbledore and that guy who invented doxycide."

"Found any Agrippa?" Ron asked idly as he shuffled the Exploding Snap cards. "I still haven't got one of those." Gilbert shook his head.

"I've been sitting here trying to see if I can figure out which of these ones has a new card in it."

"Who's on these new cards?" Ginny asked as she tipped a handful of the gathered frogs into the box. Gilbert shrugged.

"I heard they were going to put Fudge on them," Ron snorted.

"No," Ginny said, looking faintly horrified.

"I heard it was Quidditch players," Neville said, his eyes cast upwards to his still smoking eyebrows.

"Like who?" Ron scoffed. Neville shrugged, flicking one last chocolate frog package into Gilbert's box.

"So, which one are you going to try – for a new card?" Hermione asked kindly.

"Gerald laughed when I asked him if anything in his Divination text book would help," Gilbert said staring at the box. He missed the way Hermione rolled her eyes and Ron sniggered. "He wasn't very helpful."

The group quietened as they all stared at Gilbert's box of chocolate frogs. Harry cleared his throat hesitantly and took a few steps forward. Ron looked up, his brows drawn together in confusion for a moment before he smiled.

"Exploding Snap, Harry?" he asked genially and Harry shrugged rather uncomfortably. He'd been expecting censure and was unnerved at Ron's response.

"He keeps winning," Ginny added without rancour. "Maybe we could team up against him?"

"All right then," Ron said, "me and Gilbert against you two."

"Count me in," Hermione said suddenly, laying aside her book. Harry slipped quietly into a seat, surprised that he'd not been scolded. Hermione, clearly deciding that she would attempt to help Neville regain some of his reputation in the Exploding Snap arena, quickly seated herself next to him, regrown his eyebrows with a single flick of her wand and began to deal the cards, tossing out a complicated set of rules as she went.

"Let's just play the game," Ron whined petulantly. "Losers have to … eat as many chocolate frogs as it takes to find Gilbert here a new card."

"That's hardly a torture," Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

"You could make yourself sick," Ron argued loftily. Hermione shook her head wearily.

"Let's just play," Ron said with finality. "We can work out the loser's bargain later."

"Are you all right?" Ginny leaned close and whispered to Harry under cover of the flurry of activity that starting the game caused.

"Yeah, sorry-"

"It's okay," Ginny said hastily and threw down a card. She laid a soft hand on his thigh and squeezed it reassuringly. Harry leaned into her touch and gave himself up to enjoying the game.

When Neville and Hermione won Harry watched with amusement as Ron scowled, his blackened face staring stonily at the charred pile of cards.

"And what will you bestow on us, the victors?" Hermione asked loftily, dusting her hands and folding them primly in her lap.

"I think he should feed you a frog," Neville said laughing as Hermione blushed. "Not a single bite for himself, and I get to keep the card."

"But it might be Agrippa," Ron whined as Gilbert grinned and held out the box.

"It might," Neville allowed as he plunged his hand into the box and pulled out a chocolate frog.

"How come they don't have to suffer?" Ron asked grumpily, indicating Harry and Ginny who watched, amused.

"Oh, I will think of something," Neville smirked. Ron snatched the chocolate frog package from Neville's hands and grumbled as he tore it open and flipped the card at Neville without looking at it before he unceremoniously held the frog up to Hermione's lips.

The frog squirmed and Ron glared at it and Hermione but everyone was startled at the oath that fell from Neville's lips, Ron let go of the frog and it hopped away. Gilbert sprang after it, knocking the box of chocolate frogs flying. He bumped into Hermione's knees, knelt heavily on Ron's foot and then fell face first into the pile of ashes left by their game before he rolled over holding the frog aloft triumphantly. Gilbert stared up at the seventh years but none of them paid him any mind as they stared at the card held in Neville's trembling hand.

"Is that …" Hermione trailed off as she gasped. Neville nodded slowly.

"No way," breathed Ginny reverently. Harry squinted and then nodded as if unable to believe it.

Ron made a sort of strangled choking sound.

"Who'd ya get?" Gilbert asked enthusiastically, biting the head of the frog and chewing loudly. He scrambled upright and plucked the card from Neville's limp grasp and turned it over, inspecting it.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley … defeated troll … chess player … enjoys Quidditch … role in defeat of You-Know-Who …" Gilbert mused.

"Honestly," Harry rolled his eyes. "Vol. De. Mort." Ginny giggled breathlessly.

"This is _you_!" Gilbert exclaimed looking at Ron with unbridled delight. "This is one of the new cards! And it's _you_!"

"This is my finest hour," Ron said, gazing at the card as his miniature winked.

"D'you suppose …" Neville trailed off looking at the box as if it would explode.

"It must have more new ones in there," Gilbert said excitedly. "Who do you suppose they are?" He began digging through the box, squinting at the packages as if to see if he could tell which ones held cards of import.

Harry squirmed uncomfortably as he felt four pairs of eyes on him.

"No …" he said half-heartedly, knowing what he protested was probably true.

Before long Gilbert had enlisted the help of his friends, who endeavoured to eat with great gusto, two of the first year girls, Seamus, Dean and a scattering of third and fourth years. The students exposed every single chocolate frog card in the box but there were no further new cards to be found. Ron, gifted the first card by Neville, to whom it technically belonged, sat in the midst of it all staring at himself in miniature while the first years traded the other cards back and forth.

"There has got to be one of Harry," Dean said, twisting his head to look at the card Ron held.

"As soon as we find one, we'll make sure you get it, Harry," called one of the fourth years as they gathered up the discarded packages under Hermione's watchful gaze.

"Um, no, that's okay," Harry said. "I can manage …"

"I'll have it," Ginny called cheekily and buried her laughing face in Harry shoulder as he grimaced.

"I'm on a chocolate frog card!" Ron suddenly shouted. "This is brilliant!" Hermione laughed as he caught her up in a hug and planted a kiss on her cheek.

The rest of Gryffindor Tower gradually went to bed but Harry migrated to his favourite armchair and curled up in it with Ginny, his intention to remain in the common room evident. He did not miss the look Ron and Hermione shared as Dean and Seamus bid them good night leaving Neville shifting uneasily by the fireplace as he watched Ron attempt to convince Hermione that kissing her on the neck in public wasn't at all improper.

"I don't want to see it, Ron," Ginny said, stifling a yawn. Ron sighed dramatically.

"Neither do I, but you and Harry do it anyway."

"I saw a house-elf," Harry blurted suddenly.

"They're not exactly scarce," Ron said from the seat he had finally pulled Hermione into. Harry shook his head impatiently and pulled the little velvet bag from his pocket.

"He gave me this," Harry said, tipping the amulet out onto his palm. He briefly told them what the house-elf had said about the piece of jewellery.

"Wonder if it's magical," Ron mused.

"It's beautiful," Ginny murmured.

"You know what this means, don't you?" Hermione said slowly. "House-elves have familial ties … this could be really important …" Neville stared at Hermione in disbelief.

"Harry's unearthed a long lost relic of Gryffindor," Neville said. "It could be magical and who knows what else we don't know about this Glenda – and you're worried about the house-elves?"

"Well, I'll need to research Glenda, of course," Hermione mused.

"There's something familiar about this amulet," Ginny said, reaching out to touch it. "I'm sure I've read something about it before, or seen it or something."

"It is in the portrait," Harry said, tipping the amulet back into the velvet bag.

"No, somewhere else," Ginny said as she shook her head. "I wish I could think …"

"Well," Harry said, kissing the side of her head, "you take it and see what you can figure out." He pushed the little bag into her hands and nuzzled her neck. Ginny took the velvet bag and fingered it absently before turning to kiss Harry soundly.

Somewhere in the distance Ron groaned but Harry ignored him, content as he was to caress Ginny's tongue with his own in the half darkness of the common room as soon as Ron and Hermione followed Neville and took their leave.

* * *

Ravenclaw soundly beat Slytherin in their match held near the end of January and Ginny, preparing for Gryffindor to meet Hufflepuff, began to scan the owl post for some sort of correspondence from the Harpies. The week before Valentine's Day she scowled as she spotted Hermes once again as he flew towards Audrey.

"Hasn't she tired of Percy by now?" Ginny muttered rebelliously as she savagely attacked her bacon. Audrey removed the scroll from Hermes's leg and squealed as she read it. Ginny grimaced. Audrey leapt form her seat and hurried to Ginny.

"Here," Audrey said breathlessly, handing Ginny a scrap of parchment. "Hermes brought this for you. Percy's asked me to Hogsmeade! For Valentine's Day!"

"Lovely," Ginny said flatly, opening the scrap of parchment. Audrey skipped off and Ginny read the parchment quickly. "George is coming for the next game."

"Is he bringing Angelina?" Hermione asked. Ginny shrugged.

"Are you going to Hogsmeade for Valentine's?" Neville asked Harry suddenly.

"Erm …" Harry gulped. He forgotten entirely about Valentine's Day and not made a single plan.

"Ron's coming," Hermione said absently. "He said he has a surprise."

"Stupid Valentine's Day," Ginny said, scowling. "We need to practice but poor ickle Dean has to go and take Susan out that day and the stupid Beaters want to take out a couple Ravenclaws."

"Susan?" Neville asked. "I thought she turned him down?"

"I thought she turned Seamus down," Harry said.

"Wasn't she going out with Terry?" Hermione looked up from the newspaper.

"Nah," Seamus interrupted as he sat down. "She dumped Terry for Blaise and then he turned out to be a bit forward so she said she'd give Dean a chance."

"You're making my head hurt," Harry groaned.

"You taking Luna, Neville?" Seamus asked, reaching for the pumpkin juice.

"We aren't going out any more," Neville said quietly. They all stopped eating.

"You're not?" Hermione asked.

"She said it was time I wooed Hannah," Neville said with a hint of desperation. "She said Valentine's Day was the perfect time and she was going to go to Hogsmeade with Sebastian Hornblower!"

"So, have you written to Hannah?" Ginny asked. Neville shook his head glumly.

"You should," Hermione encouraged. "Invite her to Hogsmeade." Neville made a horrible choking sound. Further conversation was cut short by the arrival of a magnificent black owl. It swooped in front of Ginny and held a leg out for her to divest it of a large parchment envelope.

"It's … from the Harpies …" Ginny said as she turned the envelope over, staring at it.

"Are you going to open it?" Harry asked after several minutes of silence. Ginny nodded but made no move to open it. The owl had long since flown away and most of the Great Hall had emptied by the time Ginny actually slipped a finger under the seal on the envelope and pulled out the letter. Her companions were silent as she read the letter. Then Ginny folded it meticulously and slid it back into the envelope before putting the envelope carefully into her book bag.

"What did it say?" Harry burst out, unable to keep silent any longer. Ginny turned to look at him, her eyes wide.

"Gwenog Jones is coming to watch me play," Ginny said. "The scouts want to give me a trial and she said she's coming to watch."

"It's a letter from Jones 'erself then?" Seamus asked with a low whistle. Ginny nodded.

"Wow," Harry said, impressed.

"That's really good, Ginny," Hermione said briskly. "Now, we _are_ going to be late for Potions."

"Do you think Hannah will say yes?" Neville blurted suddenly as they stood up, gathering their things. Ginny patted him gently on the arm and skipped out smiling, Hermione shook her head in resignation, following Ginny, and Harry grinned before following them.

"Well, it's all right for you!" Neville called after the three of them. "You've all found true love!"

"I'm with you brother!" Seamus called out as he scrambled to catch up with them. "No true love here." Harry turned in time to see Neville shake his head sadly at Seamus and they all laughed as they headed down to the Potions classroom.

* * *

While the majority of fifth through seventh years had procured a date for the Hogsmeade visit the day before Valentine's Day, it seemed as though the entire third and fourth years were using the opportunity to purchase chocolate frog cards. News of Gilbert's Ron Weasley card had spread through the castle like wildfire and the race was on to be the first to find a Harry Potter card.

While the Gryffindors insisted that they would gift the card to Harry himself, the Slytherins insinuated that they would sell it for profit and more than one duel in the corridors forbade a number of students from venturing to Hogsmeade at all. Harry complained at length, protesting the idea of being on a chocolate frog card. Ginny just rolled her eyes at him and pulled him through the gate and towards Hogsmeade.

Harry and Ginny amused themselves by inspecting the sports supplies at the new Quidditch Supply shop that had opened, finding the most garish quill in Schrivenschaft's for Percy and sitting outside Madam Puddifoot's, making up stories about the couples who came and went from that establishment. Harry challenged Ginny to a drinking contest in the Hogs Head and won by a narrow margin as he downed four Butterbeers in quick succession to her three and a half. It was nearly time to leave when they ambled past Honeydukes and Ginny impulsively pulled Harry inside.

"You want to go here?" Harry asked, pulling a face at the numerous students who still milled about inside. Ginny nodded and fought her way to the counter.

"Do you have any chocolate frogs left?" she asked the harried salesgirl.

"Yeah," the girl replied, "just brought the last box up. I don't know what it's about, but they're selling like Merlin's wand itself today."

"I'll take it," Ginny said decisively. The salesgirl slapped one chocolate frog down on the counter and held out a hand wearily.

"One Sickle."

"No, the box," Ginny said impatiently. The girl shrugged and pushed the box across the counter towards Ginny who gave her a handful of coins.

"You're mental," Harry said affectionately as Ginny cradled the box in her arms and they negotiated their way out of the shop.

"You love me for it," Ginny smirked.

"I do," Harry agreed as they stepped out into the street.

"Come eat chocolate frogs with me?" Ginny asked, looking up into Harry's face.

"All right," Harry agreed, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend. "And then I want to make love to you." Ginny blushed heavily. Harry never usually spoke so candidly about his desires and he'd surprised even himself when he said it, but he didn't take it back and just watched her carefully as she swallowed and nodded. Harry bent to kiss her and Apparated them back to the castle gates, suddenly eager to return.

As they lay swaddled in conjured quilts and blankets in front of a substantial fire, Harry let his fingers trail through Ginny's hair as she unwrapped chocolate frogs and fed them to him slowly. They examined and discarded three Dumbledores, seven Cliodnes and a Merlin before finding anything of excitement in their chocolate frog box.

"Well, this proves it," Ginny said. "There is definitely one of you."

"I think they could have chosen a more recent picture," Harry said critically. Ginny elbowed him in the ribs and Harry laughed before tickling her mercilessly and the chocolate frogs lay forgotten.

Ron glared at Harry and Ginny when they sidled into the Great Hall half way through the evening meal. Harry flattened his hair self consciously but he knew they both looked thoroughly ruffled. Ron grunted as they sat down but Ginny smirked at her brother before producing the chocolate frog card with a flourish.

"A gift for you, brother," she said formally before dissolving into giggles. Ron took the card slowly and turned it over. His jaw dropped and he turned to Hermione, staring at her in awe. Hermione was entirely unaware of this and continued eating.

"Hermione," Ron said a hint of laughter in his voice. "Can you please sign this?" Hermione sighed; a long, drawn out sigh.

"I'm not going to sign anything without reading it first, Ron," she said. "You know I don't take that sort of thing lightly. Now what is it this time?" Her eyes fell on the card in Ron's hand and her jaw fell open. Ron laughed and pushed her bottom jaw up. She scowled at him.

"I thought I could put your autograph next to Krum's …" Ron said idly as Hermione snatched at the card bearing her likeness.

"It's … that's me ..." Hermione trailed off in wonder.

"Brilliant, isn't it?" asked Ron, helping himself to the cake and ice cream that had suddenly appeared on the table.

*******************

The following Saturday was blustery and cold, the strong winds whipped freezing rain across the Quidditch pitch. Harry listened to the wind howl outside the changing rooms as he strapped on his protective gear before the match with Hufflepuff. Ginny had been ready for about three hours and sat silently in the corner, staring into space. George had visited the changing rooms and attempted to draw her into conversation but had eventually given it up as Ginny didn't respond much at all except to tell him that she thought she might vomit if she caught sight of Gwenog Jones in the stands during the game.

George currently sat in the stands with Ron and Percy, the latter having come to see Audrey. Harry had briefly gone up to see them to find George harassing Hermione for her autograph. He carried her chocolate frog card and kept pretending to swoon at her feet, much to her chagrin. He was only outdone by Percy, who confessed he had three of Ron and had been waiting for a chance to get Ron to sign them for the children of one of his co-workers. Harry had laughed at the gobsmacked expression on Ron's face and gone down to get ready for the game.

The signal to make their way onto the pitch galvanised Ginny into action and she was suddenly energetic , as if she had not spent the last three hours mimicking catatonia. Harry shook hands with Digby, the Hufflepuff Captain and Keeper before he rose into the air and the balls were released.

Although his shoulder hadn't pained him lately, Harry found that holding onto a broomstick high in the air while being buffeting by frigid winds and freezing rain put a strain on it. Harry was torn between finding the Snitch quickly to end his misery and trying to help the Snitch elude capture to prolong the game. Ginny was flying brilliantly in the adverse weather conditions and the Hufflepuff Beaters appeared to have developed a case of short-sightedness because they kept belting the Bludgers at their own players more often than the opposition.

After about half an hour the Hufflepuff Captain, blood streaming from his nose after being clocked in the face by his own Beaters, called a time out and Harry flew rapidly to the ground, dismounted stiffly and hurried over to the rest of the team.

"Their Beaters are woeful," Peakes said. "How'd you hit yer own _Keeper_ then?" The Chasers grunted in reply.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Ginny asked with a frown.

"I'm fine," Harry said. Ginny fixed him with a stare. He relented. "My arm's a little sore."

"Find the Snitch then," Ginny said softly, moving over to rub at his arm.

"But … the Harpies … Gwenog Jones-"

"I don't want a repeat of last time," Ginny said worriedly.

"It's not that bad," Harry reassured her. "Honestly. I can play. It's just … really cold."

"I already have a trial with the Harpies," Ginny said. "You don't have to be a noble self-sacrificing git."

"I just want-"

"Promise me," Ginny said quietly. She gripped his arm and looked up at him and he nodded.

"I'll be careful," Harry said. "I'll find the Snitch as fast as I can." He kissed her swiftly as the signal to return to the game sounded and flew back up into the air.

Unfortunately, the Snitch was not co-operative and Harry still hadn't sighted it an hour later. He sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his wet hair. He could see Kyle starting to wilt in front of the goals and Peakes had sustained a leg injury via the bat of one of the woeful Hufflepuff Beaters. One of the Gryffindor Chasers was also looking rather weary and Harry willed the Snitch to appear.

On and on the game went for another thirty minutes before Harry saw any hint of the Snitch. His stomach growled unmercifully and Digby missed another of Ginny's shots which went sailing through the middle hoop. Gryffindor roused itself in a half-hearted cheer before huddling back into their cloaks and scarves. Hufflepuff were twenty points up and Harry wanted to catch the Snitch and get back inside. As he hauled his broomstick around to chase after the tiny glint of gold, Harry contemplated that not wanting to fly was something new for him. He put it down to the fact it was beginning to snow and his arm burned like blazes.

Harry ignored the gasps and shrieks of the crowd as he slipped between two Hufflepuff players, narrowly missing a collision and began hurtling towards the ground in pursuit of the Snitch. The weary crowd were roused at the sight of the action and he could hear them faintly above the roaring wind that seemed to pick up as he accelerated and pulled his broomstick up to skim the top of the pitch.

It was slightly anti-climactic when Harry's fist closed over the Snitch and the Hufflepuff Seeker was still ten yards behind him. He could hear the crowd cheering and scrambling out of the stands simultaneously. Wearily, Harry began trudging towards the changing rooms. Ginny swooped down in front of him and hopped off her broom. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly.

"Madam Hooch says they want to see me!" Ginny exclaimed. "I'm going now, they don't have a lot of time so I'll shower when I've finished. I'll see you back at the common room?"

"Absolutely," Harry said, smiling. "We'll celebrate."

"Oh, Mr Potter, I wonder if your idea of celebration is the same as mine?" Ginny asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, I'm sure it is," Harry said, waving to Ron and George, who were loitering at the door to the change rooms. "I suspect your brothers have a different idea though."

"You may be right," Ginny said as she kissed him again. "I've got to go. I'll see you later!"

"Okay!" Harry called as she hurried off.

Ron and George greeted Harry enthusiastically, although they questioned his ability to see given the length of time it took to find the Snitch.

"It wasn't there to see," Harry protested as he struggled out of his protective gear. "There's nothing wrong with my eyesight – beyond the usual." Harry's shoulder ached abominably and Ron eyed him closely.

"Have you wrecked that arm again?"

"I'm fine," Harry said irritably, "and my shoulder's okay, it's not a crime for it to hurt. I did get a dirty, great chunk of it bitten _off_!"

"Keep your hair on," muttered Ron. "Thought we could go celebrate the win. Where's Ginny?"

"Meeting with the Harpies," Harry grunted as he tugged his boots off and threw them into his locker. "I'm going to shower. I feel like rubbish."

"We'll see you back at the common room then," George said. "McGonagall said we could stay for a bit." Harry nodded and pulled off his sodden Quidditch robes, dropping them in a nearby hamper on his way to the shower stalls. He waved a hand in goodbye and stepped into a steaming hot shower.

When Harry met up with Ron and George again it was to find them surrounded by Gryffindors in front of the fire in the common room. George was regaling the first years with a tall tale of his days at Hogwarts and Ron was nursing a Butterbeer and trying to coax Hermione to put down her book and join him in his overstuffed chair.

"Where's Percy?" Harry asked, perching himself on the arm of Ron's chair and reaching for a Butterbeer.

"Dunno," Ron shrugged, "taking a turn around the castle with Audrey probably."

"How serious do you think they are?" Hermione asked, swiping Ron's Butterbeer and taking a generous swig.

"He said he's _courting_ her," Ron said with evident distaste and he shoved a pumpkin pasty in his mouth unceremoniously.

Harry, who had missed lunch by virtue of an extra long shower, selected a large variety of the treats on offer and settled down to listen to George tell the story of his exodus from Hogwarts.

"Did you really just _fly_ out?" Gilbert asked, his eyes wide.

"It was brilliant," said Seamus, throwing peanuts in the air and catching them in his mouth.

The afternoon waned and the stories grew scarce. Harry grew pleasantly warm from the Butterbeer and the glowing fire. He, Ron and Hermione spent a pleasant afternoon in each other's company and it wasn't until George plopped himself down in their midst to announce he was leaving that Harry realised Ginny had not yet returned.

"I wanted to say g'bye to ickle Ginnikins," George said. "Where is she?"

"Haven't seen her," Ron declared, raising his drink as if in salute.

"She went to talk to the Harpies," Harry said. He looked at his watch. "That was ages ago. I thought she'd be back by now."

"I need to get back to help Angelina close up," George said as he rose to his feet. "Tell Ginny she played a great game."

"Here, let me come with you," Harry said as he heaved himself to his feet. "I want to see if I can find Ginny."

The two of them left the Tower and negotiated several sets of stairs in silence before Harry ventured to ask George how he was doing.

"I'm good, Harry," George said sincerely. "Angie … the baby … they remind me I'm still alive. I don't know how to explain it." He shrugged sheepishly.

"I think I know what you mean," Harry said with a smile. At that moment two huge men appeared as if out of nowhere. George yelped with a startled oath and Harry drew his wand.

"What the-" Harry broke off and ducked as a jet of orange light came whizzing past his ear. He heard the screams of students on the staircases below as George grabbed his arm and hauled him back up the flight of stairs they had just come down.

"Damn, good Disillusionment," George spat as he cast _Protego_ to shield them both from the onslaught of spells now emanating from the two burly men.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" one of the men leered. He had a thick accent that Harry could not identify with certainty, but sounded European. The man continued as he lumbered towards them, "looks like Harry Potter himself. How fortunate it is that our quarry does not elude us any longer." As they advanced George put himself between Harry and the men, holding the shield steady.

The men advanced steadily as George and Harry scrambled backwards. Harry threw a number of spells at them around the shield but all were wide of the mark.

"How'd you get in here?" George demanded.

"Not hard to get in on a Quidditch weekend, sonny," replied the heavier man. At that moment the staircase on which the four of them travelled lurched and began to swing.

"Maybe we won't have to … entice him with that wee red head," remarked his companion with a lascivious sneer.

"What have you done with Ginny?" Harry cried, his blood pounded in his ears and he felt a white hot fury rip through him. He tried to lunge at them but George held him back.

"Jump, Harry," George said out the corner of his mouth. "Get away from them."

"Are you mad?" Harry whispered back urgently.

George glanced behind him and suddenly pushed Harry off the edge of the steps. The staircase hadn't quite finished moving and Harry fell off the top of the steps, just managing to catch the edge of the landing. Harry swore and tried to scramble up onto the landing, hampered by a hex that caught his left elbow. Harry bit back an oath as he felt his skin slice open and heaved himself onto the landing and threw his body behind an ornamental urn on a huge stone plinth to escape the hexes being thrown his way with increasing regularity.

George was holding his shield in place and backing away, but he couldn't throw any offensive spells. From his position behind the plinth Harry wrapped the sleeve of his robes tightly around his arm and then tried to aim several stunners at the burly men. He wasn't used to hiding behind something and his spells flew wide. Harry started to step out when suddenly the plinth, hit by a hex from the larger of the two men, shattered and came crashing down on top of him. Harry cried out and tried to raise his arms over his head but only found himself trapped, his injured left arm pinned under a mountain of rubble.

Through the ringing in his ears and despite a glancing blow to his head from some of the rubble Harry could hear running footsteps and the sounds of more spell fire echoing through the Grand Staircase. Children were still screaming and there was a distinct bellow that Harry recognised but could not place.

"You bastards!" George yelled fiercely and, abandoning his shield, he threw several vicious hexes at the men, stunning them and drawing blood. For good measure while they were confused, George aimed a kick at the nearest one and he fell down the staircase and into his companion, collecting him on the way down. Harry struggled to get free as George raced towards him.

"What if they get up?" Harry called desperately, tugging at his arm.

"Neville's down there," George answered shortly. He dropped to his knees and began frantically pulling the stonework away from Harry. "Are you all right?" George switched to levitating the heavier bricks.

"I'm feeling a bit … odd," Harry said eventually. He closed his eyes wanting to sleep but knowing there was something he needed to do.

"Harry!"

He could hear George calling him and struggled to stay awake.

"Ginny," Harry cried just as George levitated a particularly huge stone off his fingers. The release of pressure caused him to groan aloud and the pain brought him back to full consciousness.

"I know mate, just hang on," George said.

By the time Harry was freed from the wreckage of the plinth, a crowd had gathered at the base of the staircase and Harry sat up. He felt lightheaded and pain throbbed through his arm, making it hard to think. He was not at all impressed to be confronted by Professor Fiesche.

"Potter, what on earth happened?"

Harry was confused; the professor looked … concerned.

"They've got Ginny," was all Harry said, trying to get to his feet but his left arm buckled under him and he winced as he felt hot, sticky blood on his fingers. White spots danced before his eyes and everything seemed suddenly altogether too bright and too loud.

"We have to find my sister," George said urgently. "She never came back from Quidditch!"

"Call the Aurors!" demanded a new voice and Professor McGonagall swept around the corner. "All of you, back to your common rooms. You can do nothing here." Harry tried again to get up, using his right arm to clutch at George desperately.

"We have to find her!" he said, finally hauling himself to his feet with George's assistance.

"Don't worry, we will," George said grimly.

"Oh Merlin," Harry breathed. "What if they've hurt her?"

"You, Weasley is it?" Fiesche barked. "Come with me! Potter, you look like death, go to the hospital wing!"

"No, I'm fine," Harry spat. "They've got Ginny! I'm going to find her."

"You're going to bleed to death on the flagstones is what you're going to do," Fiesche retorted. "Go to the hospital wing. Don't come back until you're fixed up."

Harry felt like a beast was clawing desperately at his insides. He felt like he was suffocating or drowning or both. Professor McGonagall began to guide him in the direction of the hospital wing and Harry's feet began to co-operate with her. The whole time inside he was screaming a long, endless scream that no one else could hear.

"Ginny." Harry pleaded with the Headmistress.

"You can do nothing if you are unconscious, Harry," Professor McGonagall said softly. "Get patched up and then you can go. I will spare nothing to find her. Kingsley is on his way."

He felt so fragile; his body screaming in pain and Harry complied in a daze, shuffling off to the hospital wing while George bellowed obscenities at the men who lay unconscious at the foot of the staircase. When he entered the hospital wing Harry simply sat on one of the beds and let Madam Pomfrey check his arm. Harry didn't even care when the silent tears began to slip down his cheeks. Upon seeing them, Madam Pomfrey very nearly gave him something to knock him out, but Harry refused steadfastly to drink anything she offered him. Harry sat passively while Madam Pomfrey carefully mended the lacerated skin on his left arm, just waiting for the moment when they would let him leave and go and find Ginny. His impatience was barely contained.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione's soft voice finally pierced Harry's misery and he turned to look at her.

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked dully.

"Looking for Ginny," Hermione answered. Madam Pomfrey wound a bandage around his newly repaired left arm.

"I can't … she has to be all right, Hermione," Harry said.

"She will be, we'll find her," Hermione reassured him. Madam Pomfrey held out another beaker to Harry and he shook his head impatiently. His head began to swim horribly.

"Mr Potter," the Matron said gently, "this is merely blood replenishing potion. As soon as you drink it you may go." Harry grabbed the beaker and gulped it down quickly before hopping off the bed.

"Kingsley sent me to take you to the Forest …" Hermione trailed off as Harry strode towards the doors of the hospital wing.

"This is _not_ supposed to happen," Harry said angrily, throwing the doors open. "When I find out who is responsible for this, they'll rot in Azkaban if I don't kill them first!"

"Harry!" Hermione gasped as she hurried after him. "Calm down-"

"Calm down?" Harry turned to her, incredulous. "_Ginny_ is missing. No one has seen her for ages and you want me to calm down? Are you out of your _mind_?"

"Mate, don't take it out on Hermione," Ron's voice was gruff as he stood in the shadows outside the hospital wing, his arms crossed as he glared at Harry.

"I … I'm sorry," Harry said, sparing Hermione a glance. "I just … I want to hit something."

"Well don't," Ron said shortly, pushing past Harry, exposing his bloodied knuckles as he did so. Harry turned and followed him back into the hospital wing.

"What happened?" Harry demanded.

"Limuson," Ron growled. "Little toerag."

"You didn't hit him Ron?" Hermione gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.

"No," Ron allowed as Madam Pomfrey clucked over his knuckles. "But the little git reckoned he saw Ginny vanish into a wall near the greenhouses. Had a bunch of Aurors climbing all over a spot on the castle where's there's no bloody door, they could be actually looking for her!"

"How did you hurt your hand, Mr Weasley?" Madam Pomfrey asked as she dotted dittany on it.

"Punched a wall," Ron admitted. "I feel so helpless. It feels like … second year." He and Harry shared a look of mutual understanding before Ron leapt off the bed and sprinted for the doors, Harry on his heels.

Swinging around the door frame the pair of them let the doors swing shut behind them and tore down the corridor, Hermione followed them and Harry could hear both her feet clattering after him and Ron's pounding in front.

Horrible thoughts ran through Harry's head. Could Ginny have been taken down into the Chamber again? The entrance had not yet entirely covered and the bathroom was closed but wouldn't that make it the perfect place to hide a hostage, for Harry was sure now that she was a hostage, meant to lure him. He was not sure who wanted to lure him or why but Harry was unable to block the visions of Ginny lying in the Chamber as the three of them thundered towards the second floor bathroom.


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44. Afraid**

The second floor bathroom looked exactly as they had last seen it with the addition of a few haphazardly-placed stone blocks just barely blocking the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

"I don't think anyone's been here," Ron said, kicking at the blocks with his foot.

"Not for a while anyway," Hermione said as she turned slowly, scanning the room.

"Good," Harry whispered, unable to stop shuddering at the thought of Ginny being dragged into this particular room in the castle. They both avoided going anywhere near it although they'd never said it aloud, both Harry and Ginny knew why other routes were preferable.

"Let's go," Ron said shortly. A sudden splash from one of the stalls made the three of them turn around.

"I haven't seen any students in months," Myrtle said as she flew through the walls of the stall and hovered in front of Harry. "But Sir Nicholas says Glenda has; a number of people thundering through, disturbing her." She peered at Harry myopically and Harry shuddered again, taking a step back.

"We're kind of busy right now," Harry said, "if you'll excuse us."

"Looking for … something?" Myrtle asked as Harry made for the door.

"Yes," snapped Harry. "I am looking for my girlfriend who has disappeared and NOBODY KNOWS WHERE SHE IS!" His hand curled into a fist and he turned towards the nearest wall. Ron reached out and grabbed Harry's arm, pulling him towards the door.

"So, if you don't mind, we'll be going now," Ron said, leaning on the door to open it.

"Sorry," whispered Hermione, hurrying after them.

"Oh, you will be!" Myrtle shrieked as she swooped over to the door. "Nobody wants to listen to Myrtle. Oh no! Why would Myrtle know anything, she's just a stupid, stupid girl … stupid, stupid Moaning Myrtle. Too bad if I ever knew something important like where that girl is … the one you were with in the prefect's bathroom."

"Where is she?" Harry demanded, spinning around, trying not to let Ron's disgusted look bother him.

"If you were listening, you might have figured it out," Myrtle said snippily and vanished back through the solid door of the bathroom. Harry stormed after her but was greeted only by an echoing splash.

"What the hell does that mean?" Ron raged. "Figured it out; I'll give her figured it out!"

"Wait!" Hermione exclaimed. "What did she say about Glenda?"

"She's seen people," Harry said dully.

"That's it!" Hermione shouted and bolted from the room. Harry and Ron thundered out the door after her, easily catching up to her at the end of the corridor.

"Where are we going?" Ron asked her.

"The Gryffindor room!" Hermione shouted as she rounded the corner. "Come on!"

Harry thought over what Hermione said. The only time he'd ever seen Glenda's portrait awake was that one time he'd gone into the room on the fifth floor. How could Glenda have seen ipeople/i, she was always asleep? It made no sense, only Harry and Neville could get in. Had he been in the Gryffindor room today? Maybe he and Luna were using it for the same purpose as Ginny and Harry frequently did. Harry shook his head impatiently; the last person who would harm Ginny was Neville. Besides he didn't work for, or employ, European thugs.

"Quickly Harry," Hermione urged, pulling him bodily through the portrait concealing the staircase that led to the room.

"How could she be in there?" Ron protested as he clambered through. "Nobody except Harry can get in!"

"And Neville," Harry said shortly as he made his way up the stairs as fast as he could.

"Limuson did say she vanished into a wall …" Hermione trailed off, puffing slightly.

Harry ignored them, concentrating on finding the place where he could go into the wall. Grabbing hold of both Ron and Hermione's robes he pulled them through. The cavernous room was empty, and the portraits sleeping. Harry scanned it quickly before hurrying to the little door that he knew would lead to the smaller room.

"Oh, it's about time," Ginny said peevishly from the midst of a pile of blankets in front of the fireplace. There was no fire and she shivered slightly despite the layers. Harry raced over and dropped to his knees next to her.

"What happened? Are you all right? How did you get in here?" Harry asked rapidly, pulling her to him. She winced horribly.

"I'm fine," Ginny said.

"We've been looking for you for ages," Ron said from behind Harry. "Why didn't you come out again?"

"Well … I'm not really sure," Ginny admitted. "I just sort of found myself in here and I couldn't get out again. I honestly don't know why."

"You couldn't send a Patronus?" Ron demanded. "I thought Dad taught you how?"

"I didn't have my wand, Ronald," Ginny said pointedly. She turned to Harry. "I think we should keep some Floo powder in here."

"What happened to your wand?" Hermione asked.

"Dropped it," Ginny answered shortly. She turned away and Harry knew she wasn't telling them everything.

"How'd you conjure the blankets if you had no wand?" Ron asked, his eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"I think I need to see Madam Pomfrey," Ginny said, ignoring his question.

"What?" Harry asked frantically. "Are you hurt?"

"It's just a cut," Ginny said dismissively but she was shivering and pale, "on my leg."

"Can you walk?" Harry asked. Ginny shook her head slightly and Ron suddenly pushed past Harry and scooped his sister up, blankets and all.

"Don't argue," Ron said, looking at Harry. "Your arm …"

"What's wrong with your arm?" Ginny asked.

"Nothing," Harry said shortly, glaring at Ron who stared back unabashed.

The four of them made their way back to the Hospital Wing as fast as they could. Ginny was in obvious pain and started shivering violently shortly before they arrived. Madam Pomfrey greeted them with a cry of surprise and motioned for Ron to put Ginny on one of the beds. Harry barely noticed Ron withdraw silently to notify the search party that Ginny had been found. He stood protectively by the side of Ginny's bed, her hand clasped in his.

"Miss Weasley?" Madam Pomfrey asked gently, peeling back the blankets. "Where are you injured?"

"Left leg," Ginny whispered. "Some sort of slashing hex." Madam Pomfrey made a tutting sound as she pulled the blankets away from Ginny's legs. She winced as the blankets came away. Hermione gasped.

"Goodness," Madam Pomfrey muttered. Ginny's left leg was wrapped in the sodden, torn remains of her Quidditch robe and the red of the surrounding blankets betrayed the extent of her wound.

Ginny clung to Harry's hand tightly as Madam Pomfrey unwound the robe from her leg. Her Quidditch boot was shredded and her trousers scorched. A large cut ran almost the length of Ginny's entire leg. Ginny breathed in short shallow breaths as Madam Pomfrey examined the wound before summoning a large vial of blood replenishing potion and thrusting it under Ginny's nose. Harry watched as Ginny drank the entire thing before handing her a glass of water.

"So, what happened to your arm?" Ginny asked suddenly, her eyes fixed on Harry as the matron began work on her leg.

"Trapped under a pile of rubble," Harry answered. He dismissed his own ordeal quickly, bringing one shaking hand up to brush the hair from her face. "What ihappened/i?"

"Rubble?" Ginny arched one eyebrow delicately.

"They disintegrated a whole plinth on top of me," Harry grunted. "I'm fine." At that moment the doors to the hospital wing flew open and Ron strode back in, followed by George, Kingsley and Professor McGonagall.

"Oh, thank goodness," the professor said, hurrying over to Ginny's bedside. "How is she, Pomona?"

"I'm fine," Ginny said pointedly.

"Look, they're starting to talk alike," George said languidly, leaning on the end of the bed.

"It's just a bit of a cut," Ginny protested, sitting up a little.

"You will lie down," Madam Pomfrey said to Ginny, pushing at her shoulder until her head rested on the pillow again. "Mr Weasley, do you think you might give me a little room to work here?" Everyone but Harry shuffled a few steps back from the bed.

There was a tense silence as Madam Pomfrey muttered spells over Ginny's leg and up her torso. The matron frowned.

"And when were you planning to tell me about the iCruciatus/i?" asked Madam Pomfrey. Ginny sighed heavily and closed her eyes.

"I dodged it … mostly."

The silence following Ginny's admission was palpable. Madam Pomfrey began work on Ginny's leg again, muttering under her breath as she went and summoning several vials and rolls of bandages.

"I have to take those fellows to Azkaban," Kingsley said, breaking the tension. "Mr Potter, you're an Auror, take her statement."

"He can't do that," Hermione said, scandalised.

"I'm short handed, Hermione," Kingsley said with a sigh. "I can't spare anyone to take statements right now. Harry's here, she's here – it works for me."

"But he's iinvolved/i, with her," Hermione protested.

"It's a statement, not a security detail," Kingsley said shortly. "Owl it to me, Potter. I'm glad to see you'll be fine, Ginny." Kingsley turned and left.

"Isn't he leaving anyone to … guard the castle or something?" Ron asked.

"I think he just left Harry to do that," George said, smirking. Harry scowled. Ginny laughed suddenly before grimacing in pain.

"Broken ribs?" Madam Pomfrey asked, raising an eyebrow and prodding Ginny's left side.

"I'd better call Molly," Professor McGonagall said, sounding very old.

"No one has to say anything to Mum," Ginny said wearily. "I'm fine."

"Nonsense," Professor McGonagall said curtly. "She'll want to know-"

"Then I'll write to her in the morning," Ginny said with a sigh.

"Miss Weasley-"

"I said, I'm fine!"

"She'll want to know, Ginny," Ron said.

"I'm an adult," Ginny countered."I don't have to tell her and I don't want her to know tonight. It's no big deal. I'm fine."

"Now really, Ginny," Professor McGonagall tried again. "She is your mother-"

"And she hovers," Ginny snapped. "She's been writing to me twice a week and asking if I've eaten enough vegetables. Last week she asked me if my socks were warm enough and reminded me to wear two pairs! She offered to knit me a scarf – she sent me back from the Christmas holidays with three new ones and an old one of Bill's she found in the attic!"

"She has been driving Angelina nuts lately," George offered. "Yesterday when Angie complained of heartburn Mum started going on about having twins. She started knitting another set of booties right then and there. There was a near riot the day Mum heard her sneeze. Had Angie tucked in bed with a bowl of soup within ten minutes; wouldn't listen to a word about the dust in the flat."

"See!" Ginny cried. "That's what I mean! She won't give me a moment's peace if you tell her. I thought I was supposed to rest?" She crossed her arms over her chest triumphantly and smirked.

"You iare/i her daughter," Professor McGonagall said in a tone so final Harry knew it would be useless to argue further with the professor. "It wouldn't be fair not to tell her."

"No one told her last year," Ginny muttered mutinously. Professor McGonagall's lips thinned considerably.

"I notified her every single time, Miss Weasley," Madam Pomfrey said softly. "She just couldn't risk coming here."

"Every single time, what?" Ron asked pointedly. Ginny was silent.

"Every single time Mr Longbottom dragged her in here," the matron replied in the same soft tone.

"And how many times did you talk Neville out of it?" Ron asked his sister. Ginny didn't answer. Harry felt a distinct sinking feeling in his chest.

"Why did he have to drag you in here?" Harry asked her slowly. "Why wouldn't you come by yourself?"

"There were people hurt worse than me," Ginny replied quietly. "I was fine."

"None so frequent," Madam Pomfrey said, peeling off Ginny's ruined Quidditch boot.

"I'm still alive, aren't I?" Ginny said defiantly. "I couldn't exactly come running to the hospital wing every time. They were watching me."

"They were watching all of us," Professor McGonagall sighed.

"Yes, but I was the only one they were blocking from the hospital wing," Ginny blurted. Madam Pomfrey looked horrified. Harry felt ill, somehow knowing Ginny had been specifically targeted – because of him.

"They did what?" the Headmistress asked blankly.

"They didn't usually argue much with Neville," Ginny said with a trace of bitterness. "Not after the time he pinned Crabbe to the wall with a cauldron shard."

"You didn't think to itell/i me this?" Professor McGonagall demanded.

"Not when they said that if we did they'd block every single Gryffindor from the hospital wing," Ginny replied quietly, turning away. "You know how frequently we were all in detention."

The room was silent, the only noise was the dripping of water as Madam Pomfrey squeezed a cloth out over her bowl and resumed cleansing Ginny's leg, pulling the tattered remnants of her sock away from the wound as she went. Harry watched the progress of Madam Pomfrey's washcloth with morbid fascination, imagining the terrified cries of countless Gryffindors, trapped in detention with no hope of going to the hospital wing afterwards.

"Mum and Dad don't need this stress," Ginny said into the stillness. "They have enough to worry about and I'm fine. It's just a cut."

"Very well, Miss Weasley," the Headmistress said eventually, her lips pressed tightly together.

"All of you, off you go," Madam Pomfrey added. "I'll need to do a thorough examination once this is cleaned up." She held up a hand at the collective protest mounted by Harry, Ron and George.

"Go," Ginny said to Harry. "I'm okay, go eat." Harry shook his head mutely.

"Mr Potter," Madam Pomfrey said firmly, "out. I am sure you can find something to eat in the Great Hall. You can come back in an hour."

"But-"

"Please," Ginny pleaded with him. "Go get something to eat."

"I'm not hungry," Harry insisted.

"I am," Ginny whispered as the matron turned away to tidy up some of her supplies. "Can you get me some treacle tart?" Harry stared at her for a moment before shaking his head ruefully.

"Come on," Ginny continued to plead. "You know what the food is like in here."

"I just … I don't want to leave," Harry said, his voice cracked alarmingly but he didn't really care. "I don't want to leave you."

"I'm fine," Ginny said firmly, "really. I'll still be here when you get back, I'm not going anywhere."

"Absolutely not," Madam Pomfrey said sternly and Ginny hissed as the matron prodded a tender area. "You won't be going anywhere tonight Miss Weasley this is a nasty cut and I want to properly check those ribs. Now, Mr Potter, out!"

"Come on, Harry," Hermione said gently laying a hand on his arm. "You can come right back."

"I have to go, sis," George said quietly, stepping forward to give her a brief hug. "Are you really all right?" Ginny nodded firmly.

"I am, now go, all of you," she said. Only Harry heard her voice wobble but she shook her head at his questioning gaze and turned resolutely to Ron who gave her the same brief hug George had.

"I have to go too," he said. "I can tell Mum if you want?" Ginny shook her head resolutely, a frown on her face. Ron shrugged and he, George and Hermione left the hospital wing.

"I was so worried," Harry whispered, leaning his face close to hers. He closed his eyes as Ginny reached up a small hand to caress his face.

"I'm fine."

Harry left reluctantly, absently waving goodbye to Ron and George before he made his way into the Great Hall and ate quickly, not even tasting his food. Harry ignored the stares and whispers that were directed his way while Hermione and Neville held a whispered conversation about where Ginny had been found.

"How d'you think she got in there?" Neville asked as the pudding materialised. He spooned some trifle into his bowl and passed the spoon to Hermione who glanced at Harry before filling both his bowl and her own.

"Well, she was in peril …" Hermione mused, twirling her spoon in her bowl and making a murky mess of custard and jelly.

"It never turned up before now," Neville said harshly. "It never turned up last year."

"I've been thinking about that," Hermione said. "Do you think it needed both you and Harry to discover it – after you had summoned the sword? Maybe that's all the inscription means. Maybe we don't have to do anything now maybe it's been done?"

"So, what … now that Neville and I have both managed to stumble onto it," said Harry, "it turns up if a Gryffindor needs it? Ginny couldn't get in there before."

"Maybe," Hermione said thoughtfully as she ate her trifle absently. "But do you really think you stumbled on it?"

"You think it sort of … called to us or something?" Neville asked curiously, his spoon suspended mid-air and dripping custard back into his bowl.

"That's happened before," Hermione said, shrugging. "I bet we don't know half of what this castle is capable of."

"Only Ginny can tell us what happened," Harry said, viciously stabbing at the wobbly dessert. "And we're not allowed in there."

"Oh hush," Hermione said briskly. "You've seen her, she's fine and you can go back in another twenty minutes. Eat your pudding." Harry glowered at Hermione.

The wait was interminable. Ginny had looked fine but that did not negate the fact that she'd been in danger and missing. Nothing would quite satisfy Harry until he had been able to really check that she was okay. His need to be near her and hold her was absolutely undeniable and Harry just wanted to touch her and reassure himself that she was still there and in one piece. He needed to feel her silky hair between his fingers and touch the pulse beating in her neck. He wanted to count every freckle and entwine his fingers with hers. Harry didn't really care how Ginny had gotten into the room, he cared only to make sure that she was safe and in his arms. He squashed the sickening feeling that everything was all his fault and concentrated on not letting his hands shake.

The moment his hour was up Harry bolted from the Great Hall and took the stairs two at a time to the hospital wing. Ginny was sitting upright in a bed near the window, crisp sheets tucked tightly around her and a bandage on her left arm.

"Right on time, Mr Potter," said Madam Pomfrey as she swished away from Ginny's bed and went to her office.

The door clicked shut behind the matron and Harry and Ginny were alone in the hospital wing. Harry set the bowl he carried on her bedside table.

"There wasn't any treacle tart," he whispered, "I brought trifle."

"It's not your fault," was all Ginny said in reply. Harry groaned and sank into a nearby chair, his head in his hands.

"They knew what they were after," Harry said. He looked up and gazed at Ginny steadily.

"Yeah, I know," she said softly. "That doesn't mean it's your fault."

"But-"

"If they choose to get their kicks getting beaten up by me …" Ginny shrugged lightly.

"They wouldn't go after you if-"

"No," Ginny said forcefully. "They'd go after someone else and you'd feel just as guilty about that. These guys are just … they're stupid. You can't stop people being stupid or greedy or bad."

"If you weren't going out with me-"

"They'd still be stupid," Ginny cut him off. "No one's in danger _because_ of you. If something happens it's only because those guys are stupid, not because you're Harry Potter."

"You could have died!" Harry hissed vehemently, aware they were in the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey would throw him out if she so much as suspected a row. "They know how to get to me. They go after my weaknesses-"

"I am not weak," Ginny growled through gritted teeth.

"I didn't say that!"

"For you information, Potter," Ginny snapped, "I left them both writhing in agony."

"I'm aware you know how to hurt a bloke-"

"So why am I suddenly weak?"

"You aren't!" Harry said exasperatedly. "I said _my_ weaknesses! You're my weakness!"

"Anybody is your weakness!" Ginny flung at him.

"That's not true," Harry said weakly, knowing it was. He sat back in the chair and groaned. "How am I supposed to live like this?"

"Like what?" Ginny asked as she reached for the trifle, wincing at the pull on her left side.

"I thought …" Harry concentrated on passing her the bowl and attempted to gather his thoughts. "I thought when Voldemort was gone … I thought I wouldn't have to worry anymore."

"I don't think there's a person alive who doesn't have worries," Ginny said, licking the spoon delicately.

"Not just any worry," Harry said, running his hands through his hair and turning to pace underneath the window, "the sort where I wonder if everyone's all right. The sort where I worry that one by one, the people who _mean_ something to me will …" Harry stopped pacing and turned to look at Ginny intently. She stared back at him impassively.

"What was all that about, before," Harry asked abruptly, changing the subject. "How often did you need the hospital wing and couldn't get here?"

"Don't change the subject," Ginny said firmly. A loud clatter from the direction of Madam Pomfrey's office reminded them that they weren't really alone and Harry quickly drew his wand and cast _Muffliato_.

"You do it all the time," Harry pointed out. "What happened last year? What are you _still_ not telling us?"

"I'm pretty sure you know it all now," Ginny said bitterly.

"You had it the worst, didn't you?" Harry asked her bluntly.

"Until they went after Neville," she allowed with a delicate shrug.

"They went after you because we'd been going out," Harry stated flatly. Ginny just stared at him. "And Neville … we're friends-"

"Neville was leading the fight against them," Ginny said. "He stood up to them; he saved countless first years, countless girls from humiliating detentions, probably from death." She continued more forcefully. "When people opposed Voldemort and his farce of a Ministry they weren't targeted for anything except that."

"Sirius-"

"Anybody would have lured you to the Ministry that night!"

"But he died!" Harry shouted, trembling.

"Not because of _you_!" Ginny retorted.

"If I didn't go-"

"If, if, if," Ginny spat. "If your parents made Sirius their Secret Keeper in the first place, if Ron decided not to sit with you in the train, if Sirius never broke out of Azkaban, if Dumbledore didn't put that ring on, if Fred didn't come that night." Ginny's voice cracked at the last and she fell silent.

"I told Cedric to take the Cup," Harry said eventually.

"Are you going to list everyone you've ever met who died?"

"A lot of people are dead," Harry said quietly. "How would you feel?"

"Same as I feel now," Ginny retorted.

"But they're not dead because of you," Harry insisted.

"They're not dead because of you either."

"They are-"

"Oh, and you're so important that it all leads back to you, is that it?"

"No-"

"Why do you want to own all this?" Ginny demanded, sitting up straighter in the bed, her left arm clenched to her side. "Why would you want to take on yourself the fault of every Death Eater; of every action Voldemort took?"

"I'm not!"

"You are!" Ginny insisted. "Every time you think … every time you _say_ it's because of you, you're taking the blame for other people! You didn't do it! They did! It's not your fault that some opportunistic, sadistic, son of a motherless … wrackspurt decided to use me as a hostage."

"Wrackspurts aren't real," Harry mumbled, staring out of the window and into the night. Ginny sat silently for several minutes after her outburst and Harry resolutely stared out of the window.

"If you keep taking the blame for everything and everyone, you're just going to end up wearing yourself out," Ginny said eventually. "I can almost _see_ the burden sitting on your shoulders."

"They wanted to get to me," Harry said, "and they used you." He knew he sounded desperate but he didn't care. The thought that she could be harmed because someone wanted to hurt him was physically painful.

"People do that," was all Ginny said. "They use whoever they come across to get whatever they want. The only things that are your fault are the things you do."

Harry sighed heavily and leaned his forehead on the cold window pane and gazed out at the frozen landscape.

"When I was five," he began, "I started school. Dudley had already been to Nursery School but they didn't send me. It wasn't compulsory so …" Harry shrugged. "I didn't wear glasses then. The teacher made Aunt Petunia take me the optician. She wasn't very happy about it."

Harry turned to face Ginny, his voice caught in his throat. Now that he'd started his story he knew he had to finish it. Ginny was sitting still, listening intently. Harry swallowed heavily.

"Apparently," Harry continued, "it took precious time away from … dusting her vases or something." Ginny snorted inelegantly and Harry smiled wryly.

"Heavens, we wouldn't want dust on the vases," Ginny said sarcastically.

"I had to dust the vases after school every day for a month," Harry said, "and the bookcases; and the photographs and all the little teeny tiny ornaments. Dudley had to go without his afternoon snack because Aunt Petunia had to drag me to the optician – twice. Once to get my eyes tested and then once to have the glasses fitted.

"I think maybe Dudley was feeling sugar deprived. He smashed several of the vases and I had to clean them up. I got a cut on my hand. Uncle Vernon refused to let me bandage it. It was my fault for getting glasses. If I didn't get them, none of this would have happened and dear, little Dudders would have had his precious snack." Harry looked up at Ginny helplessly.

"It _wasn't_ your fault," she whispered.

"Everything was," Harry said simply. "If Dudley tripped me it was because I wasn't looking where I was going. If Uncle Vernon hit me it was because I made him mad …" Harry shrugged. Ginny looked at him, horrified and Harry couldn't bear it and turned away.

"Harry …"

"Bad things happen," Harry said simply. "They happen just -"

"What a pathetic pity party," Ginny snapped. "What is up with you?"

"Nothing is up with me," Harry replied, stung. "I know how the world works-" He was cut off by a flurry of activity near the hospital wing doors. They swung open to reveal the frantic and harried figure of Molly Weasley. Ginny groaned audibly and Harry hastily cancelled the _Muffliato_ he had cast earlier.

"Ginny!" Molly called as she hurried over. Ginny's face was stormy as her mother fussed over her relentlessly. Harry stood by helplessly as Arthur followed his wife more sedately.

"Harry?"

"I'm really sorry-" Harry began but Arthur gripped his shoulders firmly.

"Are you all right, son? Madam Pomfrey said you'd been injured."

"It was _her_?" Ginny shrieked suddenly. She hurled the bowl of trifle to the floor and it clattered heavily on the flagstones, the mess of custard and jelly oozed across the floor, soaking into the floor rug by the next bed. The commotion brought Madam Pomfrey hurrying out of her office to stare disapprovingly at her patient.

"You Flooed them!" Ginny accused the matron. "I told you not to!"

"Whyever not?" Molly asked, looking hurt as she reached out to smooth the hair away from Ginny's forehead. Ginny shrank away from her touch and it was then, in the way she moved that Harry realised she was still suffering from the effects of a _Cruciatus_ curse.

"How bad did that curse get you?" he asked abruptly and Ginny turned to him, fury etched on her features.

"I'm FINE!" she shouted. "I am a grown woman and I can take care of myself! I just fell into that bloody room and couldn't get out again, that's all."

"Ginny, dear-"

"You're all hovering!" Ginny cried. "Because you know … you figured out that I had it the worst last year in this bloody nightmare of a castle! You've all finally figured it out and now you won't leave me alone. Well, you know what? I survived. I was here last year and no one came rushing over every time I had a bloody nose."

"_Cruciatus_ is a damn sight more than a bloody nose!" Harry yelled.

"I told you," Ginny ground out, "it barely hit me."

"If it didn't affect you," Harry said fiercely, "you would be out of that bed and out of here so fast-"

"Madam Pomfrey fixed the damage, I'm just sore," Ginny fumed. "You of all people should understand that-"

"You've got permanent damage!"

"That's irrelevant!"

"Like hell!"

"Children-"

"We're not children!" Ginny screeched at the matron.

"You won't tell us about last year," Arthur said quietly, ignoring the fight brewing between Harry and his daughter. "We know it was bad but that's all we know. We worry. All of us." He gestured around at Molly, Madam Pomfrey and Harry.

"There's nothing to tell," Ginny said softly as she turned her head away to stare out the window.

"It nearly killed us to send you to school," Arthur continued. "But we didn't have a choice. We had to send you, they knew who you were, they knew your blood status … they knew your relationship to Harry." Harry felt his chest constrict tightly.

"I worried every day," Molly said. "I would have been here every time Madam Pomfrey called me, if I could have. When I did see you … at Christmas you looked so thin and pale and I wanted nothing more than to keep you home but …"

"You could have told us," Arthur said. He looked tortured. "You were so silent about the whole thing. Madam Pomfrey told us you weren't her most frequent visitor but … by Easter … I knew we rescued you from some kind of hell. We still only know half of it." Arthur took the risk of approaching his daughter. He perched on the edge of her bed and laid a hand on her leg.

"Smothering me isn't going to help," Ginny answered. "Okay, last year was hell. I got cornered in the girls bathrooms the first day by a group of Slytherins and Neville stole some dittany to heal my split lip when the Carrows wouldn't let me go to the hospital wing. Every day I practically ran between classes in case I got cornered and I had more than one split lip and more than one bloody nose.

"Seamus taught me how to really hurt a bloke, if you know what I mean, and I used that technique roughly once a week. Neville dragged me bleeding out of more than one detention and ripped more than one set of sheets into strips to bandage me up. He started taking detentions for me and spent more time in detention than he ever spent in classes."

"Oh, my little Firesprite," Arthur murmured, looking stricken.

"Does knowing this make it better for you?" Ginny demanded suddenly. "I couldn't tell you all this and see the looks on your faces. I don't want to think about it, I don't want you to think about it." She turned to Harry. "I don't want you to feel guilty, because it's not your fault."

Harry felt nothing but guilt. Having Ginny lay the facts out before them all and seeing the tortured, stricken look on her parents' faces cut his soul so deeply he didn't know how he was still standing upright, almost as if nothing had just happened. He watched as Ginny let Molly fold her into a hug and finally let tears slide down her cheeks.

"My poor, sweet, beautiful baby," Molly crooned.

"But I grew up," Ginny sobbed. "I'm not a baby anymore."

"I know," Molly allowed, her own eyes sparkling with tears, "but you'll always be my baby. I can't help it. I wish you hadn't gone through that. I wish I could have protected you more."

"But I wouldn't be who I am if I didn't," Ginny shrugged, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands, smiling as her father handed her a handkerchief. "I just … I can't be _her_ anymore. I can't be the girl you put on the train that September. I'm not a child anymore and I can deal with things and make my own decisions. They might not always be the right ones but I can deal with my own mistakes. I know when I need help."

"I'm sorry, dear," Madam Pomfrey said. "I … Minerva and I thought …"

"She was here," Ginny muttered rebelliously. "She should know; she was the one who actually saw me grow up. She was the one who helped protect the children."

"She didn't know you were being targeted," the matron said quietly. "She would have helped."

"The little ones needed her," Ginny said. "I had Neville."

"It was hard on her," Madam Pomfrey said. "Knowing …"

"I know," Ginny sighed. "It was hard on everyone and we're all still hurting, just doing a good job of hiding it most days, but I won't be treated like a child any longer. I'm going to try out for the Harpies at Easter and … I guess I'm just asking …"

"You're asking us to let you fly," Arthur said finally. "Because what we're dong is clipping your wings as surely as if we were the Death Eaters who had you running last year." Ginny nodded.

"I can't promise I won't worry," Molly said. "Quidditch is so dangerous-"

"You're allowed to worry," Ginny said. "Just … let us breathe. Fred's gone but … you can't bring him back by hovering over the rest of us. We're not going anywhere. We're grown up and we still need you, but in a different way. For instance George might need a few tips on contraception charms."

"Young lady!" Molly blushed and Ginny shrugged, unrepentant.

"War changed us all," Ginny said. "I'm not a child anymore."

"I know," Molly said softly. "I just wish we all had that year back."

"It made us who we are," Ginny said simply.

Harry could bear it no longer. The thought that he had put Ginny through such terror and fear sickened him. He heard Molly saying the Death Eaters knew about Ginny's relationship to him. He heard Madam Pomfrey say they were targeting her. Harry felt physically ill and turned blindly searching for the sick bowls that were always kept on the night stands.

Losing the contents of his stomach did nothing to ease the horrible, terrible choking feeling high in his chest. He shook his head wearily as Molly cried out in alarm and Arthur hurried over to his side, vanishing the vomit and pushing a chair under his legs.

"I'm fine," Harry said weakly, turning away from Molly's soothing touch, wanting nothing more than to let her mother him but feeling so utterly wretched that he couldn't bear it.

"This is why I didn't say anything," Ginny whispered.

"Why would you hide from me the sort of pain and misery I caused?" Harry demanded. He struggled to his feet, shaking off Arthur's hand on his arm. "I can't keep doing this."

"Harry, you didn't do this," Arthur said urgently.

"It's not that." Harry shook his head. They still didn't see, still didn't realise that sooner or later they would all see what Harry could see so clearly. He could save them all the trouble and just back away now. He had plenty of opportunities, he could go straight to Auror training – there was plenty to do there. It would save them the problem of getting rid of him when they all realised, and he could get on with not relying on people so much.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, backing away and stumbling his way out of the hospital wing. He wandered blindly at first, not sure what he should do next, trying desperately to order his thoughts.

Harry barely noticed where he was when suddenly he felt irresistibly drawn to a painting of a fat man holding a chicken leg in one hand and a bunch of grapes in the other.

"Stop staring," the fat man said irritably.

"Sorry," Harry muttered.

"Lean on the wall," said the painting.

"What?" Harry asked blankly.

"I said lean on the wall," the fat man said impatiently. "Are you an imbecile?"

"Maybe," Harry muttered rebelliously.

"Just do it," said the painting, "young people today … so disobedient. In my day …" Harry, used to the strangeness of the magical world sighed and put a hand on the wall, not surprised when it vanished into the wall. Taking a deep breath, he pressed his way through the wall to step into the Gryffindor room. Glenda was wide awake and staring straight at him.

"I see thee hath returned," said the portrait. Harry just nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. Glenda continued. "Hast thee a wife yet?"

"Why are you so concerned with me having a wife, anyway?"

"It is unseemly to shirk responsibility," Glenda said, sniffing haughtily.

"I'll work on it," Harry said mutinously.

"I saw a maiden in here earlier," Glenda continued, settling back in her painted chair. "She was … dishevelled; most unbecoming."

"She was in trouble," Harry said.

"Didst the room open for her?" Glenda asked eagerly, leaning forward.

"I think it must have," Harry answered. "We're not really sure how she got in here."

"She must be a person of great courage and sacrifice," Glenda said, nodding.

"Well, she is, she's brilliant-"

"You carry a torch for this maiden," Glenda interrupted. "I canst see it in thine eyes when thou speakest of her."

"She is the most beautiful, the most courageous, the most fun … she's strong, she's everything," Harry answered.

"And yet, thou hast not made her thy wife," Glenda said disapprovingly.

"She's only seventeen!" Harry protested. The portrait gasped.

"Why hast thou left her on the shelf?" she said. "She is many years past her marriageable age."

"No offence," said Harry, "but I think times have changed a bit."

"You do her no service," sniffed Glenda.

"Look, that's all changed now anyway," Harry said. "I don't think I'll be getting married. I don't think I'll be doing anything much." Glenda looked at him critically.

"Thou wouldst die old and alone?"

"I think that's a bit of a leap," Harry said indignantly.

"I knew a young man once," Glenda said. "He didst say the same."

"Yeah, well I'm not him, am I?" Harry grumbled, beginning to pace.

"No," Glenda agreed. "He wast charming and inclined to converse." Harry grunted at her and continued to pace.

In his haste to flee the hospital wing he'd forgotten that he still had to take Ginny's statement. Harry sighed heavily. He couldn't very well turn up to Kingsley, telling him he was ready to be a full-time Auror if he didn't do the first task requested of him. He'd have to steel himself and do it. It likely wouldn't be hard, Harry reflected. By morning Ginny would have had time to think and realise that Harry just brought trouble. They'd been lulled into a false sense of security these last few months but it was time to face facts. She'd understand that, Harry thought.

"You are thinking madness," Glenda said abruptly. "I canst see it in thine eyes." Harry just glared at her. "What has happened to thee, that thou hast the visage of a haunted man?" Glenda's voice was softer now and Harry felt compelled to answer her.

"The … maiden, she's … her name is Ginny," Harry said, swallowing heavily. "She … she's everything and I've put her in danger. What you were saying about sacrifice – that other time I was here – you were right I did sacrifice. It's not enough though. There are still people who just … people who are hurting the people I love."

"Love?" Glenda asked. "Thou lovest her? Why then canst thou not be with her? Surely thy place is by her side and in her heart and warming her bed?"

"It's not that simple," Harry said.

"Didst thou not sacrifice for her?" Glenda's painted eyebrows drew together in confusion. "If thou lovest her then surely thy sacrifice was in her name?"

"Well … it was more for everyone really," Harry said uncomfortably.

"Thou hast not done this for the greater good?" Glenda asked sharply. Harry nodded, feeling that was close enough to what he had done. "The ramblings hast made it to the young and virile! What travesty hast been wrought!"

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked her, confused.

"Thou knowest Albus," Glenda said, pointing a fat, stubby finger at him menacingly. Harry nodded again, slowly, wondering how _she _knew Dumbledore. "That knave was foolish!"

"Look, Dumbledore was a great wizard," Harry protested hotly.

"He forsook love," Glenda said ominously. "He made mistakes, grave mistakes."

"Everybody makes mistakes," Harry countered.

"To be old and alone is not always the wisest course," Glenda said cryptically.

"Look," Harry said in exasperation. "Do you mind terribly much if you could cut to the facts without all this flowery rubbish. I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, or how you know Dumbledore and what my getting married has to do with anything at all. So if you don't mind, either say what you have to say – in plain English – or leave me in peace so I can think things over."

"He had the amulet," Glenda said. "He must have been one of great courage to use it thus but he wast no romantic. He forsook love." Harry began to try and decipher what the portrait as saying. He called on every bit of knowledge he had about his former Headmaster to try and make sense of what Glenda was saying.

"He had the amulet?" Harry asked, "the one around your neck?" Glenda nodded, her painted jowls wobbling ominously. "And in order to use it, he had great courage?"

"None canst use it lest they have shown great courage," Glenda confirmed.

"How do you use it?"

"It gives you sanctuary," Glenda replied. "For those who exercise courage are often in great peril. The amulet opens many doors closed to others. Your maiden, she hast the amulet?" Harry nodded slowly.

He tried to think, to piece the thoughts together. Dumbledore had the amulet and he'd been in here, he'd spoken to Glenda. Maybe he'd used her as some sort of sounding board; Glenda seemed to know an awful lot about the former Headmaster.

"The last time Albus came he wast weakened," Glenda said, breaking into Harry's thoughts. "He appeared close to death. A Bird of Fire bore him away. I fear he left the amulet. He never returned."

"I found it in here," Harry confirmed. "I … gave it to Ginny."

"She ist a Gryffindor?"

"Yes," Harry replied. Glenda looked thoughtful. Harry continued. "What … what did Dumbledore sacrifice?"

"Twas not his sacrifice that unlocked the doors," Glenda said. "His courage was his greater power. He possessed not the greatest of all; that was his sacrifice."

"He always said it was love," Harry said, struggling to understand. He felt as though his feelings and the past were tied in knots. "Dumbledore didn't sacrifice love … he loved me, I know he did!"

"Do not try to understand others," Glenda said in that same soft voice she used earlier, the one that made Harry want to talk, to unburden everything to her. "Seek only to understand yourself. Your sacrifice hast made the room available to thee, but I fear thou lack the courage thou needest."

"I'm a Gryffindor," Harry said stubbornly. "I have courage in spades."

"Then why hast thou hidden thyself here?" Glenda asked, leaning forward, her eyes suddenly piercing his soul. "Life dost not end with thy sacrifice!"

"What has all this got to do with courage?" Harry asked, thoroughly exasperated.

"I do not think thou knowest what courage is," Glenda said slowly. "Art thou not a Gryffindor?"

"I know what courage is!" Harry scoffed. "Courage is willing to sacrifice yourself. It's willingly walking to your death, that's what it is!"

"Indeed, that too, is what Albus believed," Glenda said, nodding slowly. "This is but half of courage. What is thy greatest fear, knave? And thy deepest wish?"

Harry stopped pacing, his thoughts swirling in a jumble, confused at the abrupt change of subject. How could one be more courageous than to walk to one's death? Harry knew what courage was, the very idea that he didn't was as ridiculous to him as believing that Uncle Vernon would accept magic. He decided to answer Glenda's questions, so he could get back to the discussion about courage.

"Remus always said that I feared … fear," Harry said. "I … don't want to be afraid. I don't like feeling afraid."

"And thy desire? The one held closest to thy heart?" Glenda prompted softly.

"A family," Harry whispered.

"Thou hast the keys needed," Glenda said as she settled back into her painted chair. "Courage means more than what thou knowest." And with that she was suddenly asleep. Harry stared at her in utter frustration, his desire to hurl one of the nearby busts through her frame was overwhelming and he growled. She was worse than Dumbledore, with her blasted riddles and insistence on making Harry figure things out.

"Just once, someone is going to simply _tell_ me what I want to know," Harry grumbled as he stomped his foot petulantly and then felt rather foolish as a cloud of dust wafted up and made him sneeze.

Harry sighed, feeling tired and overwhelmed. He made his way to the little door that housed the armoury and went through. A discarded Quidditch glove and half of Ginny's torn robes lay in a little pile by the fireplace. Harry lit a fire with his wand before gathering up the items and sinking down onto the rug he and Ginny had conjured. Harry ran his hands over the soft leather of the glove, imagining Ginny's hand gripping the Quaffle, writing painstakingly to her mother and gleefully flipping chocolate frog cards at his chest. The same hand traced soft lines across his cheek and down his jaw and ghosted down his back to rest delicately on his waist. It gripped his hand in hers, the fingers intertwined.

Harry sighed and gathered the robes to him. Ginny's scent lingered on the fabric and Harry felt an ache in his heart at the thought that he might never again hold her. He wanted Glenda's words to mean something, to tell him how he didn't have to give Ginny up and he began to turn the thoughts over and over in his mind.

His greatest fear was fear itself, being afraid, and yet he had felt nothing but fear since the moment he and George had encountered those men on the stairs. Harry fingered the torn ends of the robes and thought. That wasn't quite true he realised. There had been a moment when he'd felt love. The moment suddenly washed over him like a wave and Harry wondered that he'd not paid it attention before. The image of George standing fiercely in front of him, urging him to get to safety, loomed before him.

He'd seen that look before. It was the look Ron wore, right after Fred had died and he wanted to avenge his brother's death. It was the look on Molly's face when she stepped between Bellatrix and her daughter and refused to lose another of her children. It was the look on Andromeda's face as she stood between Moses Brown and her grandson. It was a look of fierce familial love and when Harry realised that he realised he saw it on Molly's face, the day he'd come to the Burrow. It was on Arthur's face every time Harry sought his counsel and the way Hermione had looked at him for years.

Years. They had been there for years. The one thing he desperately wanted, had always craved, had been there the whole time. And now his deepest desire and his darkest fear were colliding. Harry saw it clearly. He _had_ the family he wanted and he was afraid of losing them. But if he was so afraid then where had his courage gone?

"Probably hiding under all the worry," Harry said into the still room. "That'd be a sight to see, someone's courage, cowering in fear under all the worry." And suddenly Harry realised what Glenda meant.

Courage to stand up to your enemies was only half the battle. Courage to stand up to your fears was another matter entirely. Harry sighed, realising his work wasn't over with the end of Voldemort. It was just beginning and now that he'd found the courage to face his enemy he had to find the courage to truly face his fears.

Harry sat on the rug most of the night, watching the flames flicker in the fireplace, trying to figure out how he was going to overcome his fears instead of living with them as he had been. It was shortly before dawn when he recalled something Ginny had said.

Harry scrambled to his feet, doused the fire and raced from the armoury through the larger chamber and back out into the castle. He had to get to the hospital wing and talk to Ginny before it was too late.


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45. Courage**

Molly stirred in her chair as the door to the hospital wing creaked open. Harry winced and stopped short, afraid to wake her. He had not been expecting to find Ginny's mother still by her side at close to five in the morning and he wasn't quite sure what to do about it. His plan had been to steal in quietly and sit and wait for Ginny to wake up, but now he simply didn't know what to do.

"Harry? Are you all right, son?" The voice from the shadows behind him was low, almost a whisper, but unmistakably Arthur.

"Yeah – I …" Harry stopped, completely at a loss. He'd prepared a whole speech for Ginny, apologising for leaving so suddenly and awkwardly, explaining his anxieties. He had absolutely nothing in mind to tell Arthur.

"I couldn't find you," Arthur said. Harry looked up, finally, to see concern etched on the features of the older man. "I've been looking all night."

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I – I – just … I've been thinking." He didn't know what to tell Arthur, whether to tell him more about the room they'd found and his conversation with Glenda, or if he should explain his still jumbled thoughts.

"Me too," confessed Arthur, stepping closer to Harry. "You know what hurts the most? I couldn't protect my little girl. That's been my job since she was born and I … I sent her here and …"

"It wasn't your fault," Harry said, grimacing at the irony. "You had to."

"I know," Arthur said, with a faint half-smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I have to remember that I sent her here as prepared as I could. You can only tell your children so much, teach them only so much before you have to send them out into the world and just … trust them."

"It still hurts that you weren't here for her," Harry said softly, staring at his shoes.

"Harry," Arthur began, he paused. Harry knew Arthur was waiting for Harry to look at him. Harry slowly looked up. Arthur's eyes were full of sorrow and any trace of a smile was gone. "I wish I'd had that time with you."

Harry didn't know what Arthur meant and just blinked at the other man. Arthur was watching him carefully in the dim light of the corridor.

"I don't think … you didn't get enough time," Arthur said, clearly struggling to find the words he wanted to convey his meaning. He took a deep breath and continued. "When Ron was small we'd go out and degnome the garden together. He told me all the times Fred and George had tricked him. We talked about ways to deal with them. I'm not sure he ever managed to remember it in the heat of the moment, but …"

"I used to do the weeding," Harry said dully. "Uncle Vernon would make me do it when he had to talk to Dudley."

"Let's take a walk," Arthur said suddenly. Harry looked at him in surprise. Arthur stepped out of the shadows, his face was pale and shadows were smudged under his eyes. "Come on, walk with me."

Harry fell into step with Arthur, not sure where they were going. He glanced back at the hospital wing doors as they swung shut and then padded quietly down the corridor.

"You've been thinking?" Arthur asked idly as they passed a tapestry of a wizard stirring a cauldron.

"Yeah," Harry answered cautiously.

"I went to the Astronomy Tower," Arthur said conversationally. "I didn't expect to find you there, not really. I was just being thorough. I got, ah, a bit lost though. Castle's not actually as big as I thought it was. Place seemed so big when I was younger. I must have gone right past it because I found myself at Ravenclaw Tower and had to turn around and go back. Then I managed to get on a staircase just as it moved."

"Where did you end up?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"Well, I found myself hiding behind a tapestry on the sixth floor while some young buck I don't recognise led his rather giggly girlfriend into a nearby alcove," Arthur whispered, glancing around as if the walls had ears. "It was rather mortifying … he was very good at whatever it was he was doing." Harry stifled a snigger.

The two of them strolled in companionable silence for a few steps before Harry ventured a question.

"Mr Weasley, what do you think courage is?"

"I think it's not reverting to 'Mr Weasley' every time you think you've disappointed me," Arthur said quietly. Harry stopped suddenly. Arthur eyed him evenly.

"I do that?" Harry asked. The other man nodded. Harry stared absently at the portrait above Arthur's head. It was of a rather wobbly ballerina who'd fallen asleep standing up and was threatening to fall over at any moment.

"When Bill was about four," Arthur began, "he was playing Merlin in the Tower – he made that game up. Merlin's tower was on the very top landing where Ron's room is now; we didn't use it back then. Anyway, Bill managed to push Charlie down the stairs – right from the very top. There was blood everywhere and poor Molly was feeding Percy and it took her a while to get there. By the time she found them she was in a right state. Shouted at poor Bill something dreadful, she did. When I got home she'd patched young Charlie up and he was playing happily with a stuffed dragon but Molly was a mess."

"Why?" Harry asked, intrigued. He could see the little scene at The Burrow: a sorrowful Bill, a bandaged Charlie and a serious-faced, infant Percy, chewing solemnly on a tiny plastic cauldron.

"Well, she'd shouted that Bill was a terrible brother and it was his fault that Charlie was hurt," Arthur answered. He didn't look at Harry as he said it and Harry was glad. "By the time she'd cleaned up Charlie, Bill had gone and she couldn't find him anywhere. When I got home she was ready to call a search party."

"You found him though?"

"Oh yes," Arthur smiled. "He'd run away as far as the front gate. I'd Apparated right past him. But it was spelled not to let the children out. He couldn't go anywhere so we found him curled up under a hedge with his little rucksack as a pillow.

"He woke up when I carried him inside. He told us that we shouldn't bring him in because he was a terrible big brother who shouldn't be allowed in the house. Molly felt dreadful. We gave him warm milk and a piece of chocolate cake and tucked him into bed. D'you know what he said to me as I did that?" Harry shook his head. Arthur smiled fondly. "He said 'Daddy can I have chocolate cake every time it's my fault?' I made him promise me never to run away again if it's his fault, because usually it wouldn't matter. Even it was his fault we didn't ever, ever want him to leave.

"I found out later he told that to Charlie the time a toy dragon singed Fred's eyebrows and set George's hair on fire. And they both told Percy when he dropped a heavy book on baby Ginny's fingers. Apparently the three of them stopped Fred and George running away after they scared Ron so badly with a rubber spider that their mother chased them outside with a frying pan. I'm not sure, but I think it was Ginny who told Ron we didn't ever want him to leave – after the time he accidentally turned Percy green when he was almost seven."

"Who told her?"

"I did," Arthur said, smiling. Harry was startled to find they'd wandered down to the kitchens and he watched Arthur reach out to tickle the pear. Harry clambered through the portrait as Arthur continued the story. "She was about four and had just been a flower girl at Cousin Phillip's wedding – married a dreadfully short Muggle girl, he did, Ginny was the only female around not taller than her as I recall. I'm still not positive the woman didn't have goblin blood … Anyway, Ginny had been playing 'wedding' for weeks afterwards and she would parade around the house with a piece of old lace curtain on her head, clutching a bunch of straggly flowers from the garden."

Arthur gestured to one of the chairs in front of the kitchens' hearth. Harry noticed the house-elves were busily preparing breakfast and his stomach growled hungrily. Arthur chuckled and beckoned to a nearby house-elf. Harry gazed into the fire and pictured a tiny Ginny in his mind, a bunch of wilted flowers clutched in a chubby fist and a grubby white train dragging on the floor behind stubby, little legs. Harry looked up in surprise as a plate of chocolate cake a glass of warm milk appeared in front of him.

"I know, maybe you're too old for warm milk," Arthur said as he smiled. "But … it's tradition. Molly would always put it on the table whenever one of the children ran away so that when they came back …"

"Did they always come back right away?"

"Oh yes," Arthur said with a firm nod of the head. "Now I was telling you about Ginny. When Bill teased Ginny for her little game and asked her who she was planning to marry, she told him she was going to marry Harry Potter. He laughed at her. I fear he rather hurt her feelings and she might have accidentally sent a few … items flying at the poor boy's head. She broke a rather … interesting vase that Aunt Muriel gave us for a wedding present. Molly saw the whole thing from the first floor landing. Fred and George told Ginny she'd broken The Most Precious Pot of Penelope the Perfect and now everyone in the house would be less than perfect.

"Well, Ginny ran out of there as fast as her little legs could carry her and the last thing Bill said before the kitchen door banged shut behind her was 'I'll make sure there's milk and chocolate cake!' But I don't think she understood what it meant. Molly scolded the boys of course, for frightening their sister, and she made Bill make the chocolate cake this time, but they still hadn't found her by the time I came home from work."

"Where was she?" Harry asked, making a face at the warm milk he'd sipped absently. Arthur laughed and handed him a cake fork.

"I found her tucked under that same hedge Bill was under, by the front gate," said the older man wistfully. "All curled up in a little ball. The hedge had grown and she was so small … she was still wearing her lace curtain on her head and she looked up at me and said 'Daddy, I can't ever, ever come home. It's all my fault that nobody's ever going to be perfect!' I nearly laughed at her, poor little thing. So I took her inside and gave her warm milk and chocolate cake and I told her …"

Arthur paused and looked up. He swallowed heavily and gazed at Harry intently.

"I told her," he said, "sometimes accidents happen. Sometimes we make a bad choice and sometimes bad things happen, but nothing is so bad that you can't come home. Nothing is so bad that we don't want you there. You can't do anything so terrible we don't want you. And even if it is your fault, we don't ever, ever want you to leave."

"I don't ever want to leave," Harry said quietly. "But I'm afraid. One day … it's going to be so bad …"

"It can't ever get that bad," Arthur said. "It never gets that bad."

The two of them sat in companionable silence for a while. Harry ate his chocolate cake slowly, thinking.

"D'you think," Harry said, when he'd finished and scraped every last morsel of cake from the plate, "d'you think it takes a lot of courage to keep going? I mean … now that Voldemort's gone?"

"Yes," Arthur replied quietly. He didn't elaborate and Harry sensed the other man was waiting for him to continue.

"How can you tell that something's not your fault?"

"It probably just takes practice."

"Why is it so hard to …"

"Accept?"

"Yeah, maybe," Harry said. "It's easier to keep being who I used to be, but everything's changed now, hasn't it?"

"I think ipeople/i have," Arthur said. "Harry, losing Fred has been perhaps the hardest thing Molly and I have ever had to live through. It takes a real kind if courage to just … keep going. Ginny made us realise that hovering, worrying over the rest of you, it's not going to bring him back. It's not living."

"There's a portrait," Harry said slowly. "In that room – the one where we found Ginny – and she made me realise what I'm afraid of." Arthur gazed at Harry steadily. Harry stared silently at the busy house-elves.

"Losing everything you have," Arthur said after a while. "You've worked so hard for it and you've realised how fragile it all is." Harry nodded.

"Did you know it was so easy for fear to just … take over?" Harry asked. "I didn't even realise it was happening." He sighed heavily.

"You've been blaming yourself too, haven't you?" Arthur added. Harry nodded. Arthur laid a hand on Harry's arm. "You shouldn't. You got blamed for a lot as a child, didn't you?"

Somehow, looking into Arthur Weasley's kind eyes made it easy for Harry to admit it. He nodded slowly.

"It's not your fault," Arthur said. "We don't blame you. Not for everything that's happened the past eight years, not for Fred's death, not for Ginny getting hurt, not for any of it. Harry, it's been an absolute joy to have you in our lives. You have … I don't know, something special. You bring out the best in Ron, something none of his other brothers can do. You inspired things in Fred and George that I never thought possible. Ginny … you make her happier than she has ever been. The only thing better is how happy she makes you."

"I think I know it's not my fault," Harry said slowly. "It's just; I keep expecting it to end. Nothing good ever lasts."

"Harry, there will always be chocolate cake waiting for you," Arthur said. "Always."

Harry blinked back the tears as he nodded. It was just like Ginny said. Without everything that happened he wouldn't be who he was today. He wouldn't have what he had right now. As Arthur took their empty plates back to a waiting house-elf Harry remembered how George had looked as he'd seen Harry half buried under the rubble of the plinth. His eyes had blazed with fury and revenge like Ron's had when Fred had been killed. For the first time Harry actually felt like the Weasley brother everyone kept saying he was.

*******************

"Harry?" The voice called out to him but Harry just grunted and rolled over, he wasn't ready to get up yet.

Unfortunately, he was not in bed but on a rather uncomfortable chair and turning over merely made him roll onto the floor of the hospital wing with a very painful thud. Harry let out a groan and lay there for a moment, trying to figure out who had called to him.

"Harry!" That was Hermione.

"Mate, are you all right?" Sounded like Ron.

"D'you think he's concussed himself?" Probably Neville.

"He might have … or it could be wrackspurts." Definitely Luna.

Harry mumbled something that was unintelligible, even to his own ears and sat up slowly, waiting until his head stopped spinning before he opened his eyes. There were four set of eyes looking right back at him – all of them concerned, none of them the particular shade of brown he was looking for.

"Where's Ginny?" he croaked, blinking and trying to clear his head.

"Loo," Ron said succinctly. Harry nodded and groaned as it made his head spin. He closed his eyes willing the dizziness to stop.

"What did you say to her last night?" Hermione asked. "She was in a right state when we got here."

"It's lucky we did," Neville added. "One second later and …" He shook his head ominously.

"And it's definitely a good thing you taught us that shield charm last week, Harry," Luna added.

"Who knows how big the bats would have been." Ron shuddered. "Even coming from your own wand …"

"What?" Harry asked, opening his eyes and gazing at his friends.

"How on earth did you manage to put your foot in it?" Hermione said shaking her head and handing Harry back his wand. He pocketed it automatically.

"What did you isay/i?" Neville asked. "I mean she was still furious in the morning so it must have been something awful!" Harry struggled to his feet, running his hands through his hair. He winced when he found the lump on the back of his head.

"I may have … erm, that is to say I kinda …"

"Walked out," said a flat voice from the end of the hospital wing. Ron moved in front of Harry subtly.

"You idiot," Neville muttered to Harry, moving closer and pulling his wand out.

"I had stuff to think about," Harry said wearily.

"You had stuff to _think_ about?" Ginny asked, stalking towards him, clad in a pair of hospital wing pyjamas that Harry knew to be stiff and scratchy.

"Yeah, I did," Harry said. "Look-"

"Nothing you can say is going to even come close-"

"Oh, I'm supposed to feel _nothing_ after you get attacked by strangers who shouldn't even _be_ in the castle?" Harry said forcefully, very aggrieved. "Then I find out just exactly what went on here last year and I'm supposed to say nothing about the fact that you didn't even _tell _me exactly what sort of danger that you were in every single day? I'm not to feel bad about the fact that I couldn't do anything about it? That I was the bloody cause of it?"

"Are you still on about this?" Ginny growled. "It's not all about you!"

"Your dad said-"

"Dad was here?" Ron asked. Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

"He never blamed you!" Ginny scowled.

"I know that," Harry said. "But I wasn't here for you, and that hurts."

"Don't worry about it," Ginny said harshly. "Neville was here, I'm fine. If you want to go off and be all sorry for yourself, that's fine too. Do what you like."

"Don't bring me into this," Neville said, alarmed. Ginny started pulling open the drawers on her nightstand. There was nothing in them and she slammed them shut again viciously, holding herself stiffly.

"I spoke to your dad," Harry said quietly. Ginny scowled at him. "We went and had chocolate cake."

"Damn, I forgot I lost my wand," Ginny said brusquely, but her posture seemed to sag a little as she sank onto the bed.

"I was thinking about what you said," Harry said as Ginny stared at the floor. "What you said about who we are, and … how what we go through makes us who we are."

There was a long silence during which nobody spoke. Ginny remained unmoving except for the way her fingers picked restlessly at her rumpled bedcovers and Neville shifted uneasily. Suddenly Luna spoke, her soft voice carrying easily in the stillness.

"I think sometimes we don't see what we have because we're looking for something else, thinking it will be better."

"I think you're right, Luna," Harry said. He glanced at her; she had a serene smile on her face. "Just like sometimes we're blinded by what we don't have. I've spent so long looking for family that … I didn't – I didn't see the one I have."

"Yeah, but it can't ever be the same," Ron said apologetically.

"I know," Harry shrugged. "But once Voldemort decided he was going to … well, I was never going to grow up the same as that baby who _had_ his parents. We're … like two different people. Where would I be if my parents were still here? I'd probably be some sort of … spoiled rich kid in some Ministry job after graduating from Hogwarts."

"So … you'd be Malfoy?" Ron asked with a smirk. Harry shrugged.

"Well, you'd still be Harry," Luna said in a singsong voice.

"Yeah, I would," Harry smiled. "And I'd still love Quidditch and I'd still love treacle tart and I'd still be pants at Divination, but would I be _here_?

"I've just been so … afraid, because – because, I might not have the same family I was born with but I still have one. After yesterday I was worried … that you'd … that I wouldn't have anyone. I mean the Dursley's never wanted me and everything was my fault one way or another. I ran away once and the only person who came after me was the Minister of Magic."

"Mum was frantic when she heard you'd run away," Ron said. "Arrived back in England and the first thing she heard was you'd been alone in Diagon Alley – Dad had to hold her back from going down to tear strips off Fudge!"

"I was all right," Harry shrugged. "But it's always felt like it's a matter of time before everyone realises how much trouble I cause-"

"You're daft," Ron grumbled.

"Yeah … well … old habits," Harry shrugged by way of explanation. Ron grinned at him and Hermione shook her head, a smile on her face. "I've been so afraid of losing everyone that … I just ran away, I guess."

"Did Dad … did he give you warm milk as well?" Ginny asked, looking up at Harry at last. Harry nodded. Ginny and Ron shared a brief, knowing look.

"Warm milk tastes horrible," Neville said, shuddering.

"Keeps Warfligers away though," Luna said dreamily.

"I was thinking most of the night and we had a bit of a talk before I came back here just before dawn," Harry said quietly. "You mum and dad left then."

"He went to look for you," Ginny said quietly. "I was furious."

"At me or your dad?"

"Both of you," Ginny shrugged.

"I'm really sorry," Harry said, taking a step towards her. "I just felt so guilty and I felt terrible because I wasn't here for you; and it's supposed to be over and you got attacked again."

"I still don't know how you figured that was your fault, mate," Ron said.

"They said as much – when they attacked George and me on the stairs," Harry said. "They said I was their … quarry. They thought it was great sport that they wouldn't need to use Ginny as bait anymore."

"I don't think they actually knew we had any sort of relationship," Ginny said slowly, her brow wrinkled in thought. "I remember one of them saying something about me wearing a Gryffindor uniform. I think they may have grabbed any random Gryffindor they came across." She looked up at the others.

"If they were out to … lure Harry, they might think a Gryffindor was a sure-fire thing, rather than a member of another House," Neville said thoughtfully.

"They don't know Harry very well then, do they," Ron snorted. "They could have grabbed some nameless Slytherin firstie and he'd have gone to get 'em back."

"I think I was just … opportune," Ginny said. "I was out there – alone … they just … acted." She shrugged.

"But who were they?" Hermione asked, sitting next to Ginny on the narrow bed.

"I don't know," Ginny shrugged. "They didn't say much. I was just walking across the grounds and I wasn't really looking around me, I was thinking about The Harpies and then they sort of just took me by surprise. I threw a couple of hexes but one of them disarmed me so I … kicked them and ran."

"How'd you get into that room?" Neville asked.

"I don't know," Ginny shrugged. "After they disarmed me I couldn't shield myself and they got me with a couple curses, one sliced my leg open and they cornered me near the greenhouses. I couldn't run anymore because of my leg and then I sort of backed into the castle wall and fell in there."

"And you couldn't get out?" Hermione asked, a frown on her face.

"No," Ginny said. "I mean at first I didn't want to, and then I tried getting out at a different spot, hoping I'd be inside the castle, but I was just … stuck. The door to the duelling room opened for me when I tried it, so I went in there so I could use the blankets and tried to bandage myself up."

"I don't remember there being any blankets in there before," Ron said, scratching his head.

"Are you wearing that amulet?" Harry asked, ignoring Ron.

"I was wearing it for luck during the game," Ginny said, nodding.

"I think that's how you got in," Harry mused, trying to remember all that Glenda's portrait had told him the night before. "The portrait – I was talking to her and she said something … she talks in a lot of riddles. I'm not sure I understood everything, she said but Dumbledore had that amulet at one point. He'd been in there." The other five stared at him.

"We need to find out more about that amulet," Hermione said.

"We could check in Hildeguard Hoffenstetter's _Gargantuan Guide to Gold and Gemstones_," Luna said dreamily. "She's very knowledgeable."

"I've not … seen that book before," Hermione said stiffly.

"Oh, I'll show you," Luna said. "You have Restricted Section permission, I presume?" Hermione merely raised an eyebrow at Luna who shrugged.

"It's a Gryffindor … well, relic, I guess," Neville said. "I wonder if there's any books or … something about Gryffindor?"

"You don't know about Gryffindor?" asked Luna, wide eyed.

"Well, we know a little," Hermione said, affronted. "Just not about this – no one can know _everything_."

"Why can't this Glenda just tell us what we need to know?" Ron asked, scowling.

"I think she believes she has," Harry said with a shrug. "She told me I knew everything I needed to know and went back to sleep."

"Well, I think it's time we went to the library," Hermione said briskly, standing up.

"Aw, Hermione," Ron whined.

"It's absolutely bucketing down out there, Ron," she replied. "We may as well make good use of our time inside."

"You lot go on ahead," Harry said. "Ginny and I will catch up to you." Hermione nodded briskly and dragged Ron from the hospital wing. Neville followed, snickering at Ron's grumbling and Luna drifted dreamily behind them.

"I really am sorry," Harry said as soon as he and Ginny were alone.

"I was going to hex you," Ginny said, staring at the floor.

"I deserved that," Harry said.

"I shouldn't hex you while you're asleep," Ginny mumbled.

"Well …" Harry shrugged, feeling as though the conversation was far too stilted.

"I didn't want to tell you all of that," Ginny whispered then. "I didn't want you to know."

"Know what?" Harry asked gently. "Know that things were really bad for you here last year? I knew that, Ginny."

"Yeah, but-"

"I'm glad you told us," Harry said, taking a step towards her.

"The whole thing's just so … hard," Ginny said, sighing. "Do you ever … is it ever like you think you've finished with a feeling, an emotion… and put it all behind you and then … it comes up again when you least expect it?"

"All the time," Harry nodded fervently.

"I'm sorry I nearly hexed you," Ginny said, twisting the sleeve ends of her pyjamas in her fingers.

"I'm sorry I gave you reason to," Harry said, reaching out and enclosing her hands in his. "I had a lot of time to think last night and then I talked to your dad. I – I don't know if I'll get used to it straight away, but I realised that courage isn't what I thought it was."

"It's not?"

"No, it's … not just being brave enough to do ... stupid things," Harry began.

"Or actual, truly heroic things," Ginny said dryly. Harry rolled his eyes at her. He sat down next to her, still holding her hands in his and she turned on the bed to look at him.

"I mean, I guess all that takes courage," Harry said, trying to explain. "But what about when you've finished all that? What happens after you've faced the bad guys and won? What happens after you've battled to the death and come out alive?"

Ginny studied him for a moment while Harry cursed his inability to explain himself. It had all seemed so clear a few hours ago when he'd sat in contemplation in the little duelling room. It had been so clear then that what he'd needed was the courage to keep going, that this was what defined the truly courageous from the heroic.

"Courage, true courage," Harry said, "isn't really about having the … balls to face the enemy. It's about having the guts to face everyone else after you've done that. Its how you keep going, I guess ..." Harry trailed off; frustrated at his inability to voice his thoughts when they were so clear in his head.

"What made you decide all this?" Ginny asked quietly. "It's what I've been trying to say all along."

"I was talking to Glenda," Harry admitted. "She knows a bit about courage."

"Well, she should, being the last of Gryffindor's descendants," Ginny said. There was a trace of annoyance on her face, as if Ginny was frustrated with him.

"It's true what I was saying about fear," Harry said, ignoring Ginny's expression. "I've been so damn afraid that everything I worked for was going to just … vanish that my courage really has been pretty thin on the ground. Do you know what it's like to have your greatest desire and your darkest fear collide?"

"Yes," Ginny said quietly, looking away. Harry studied her for a moment, overcome with an intense desire to know what her greatest desire was.

"Tell me?" he whispered, reaching out to stroke her cheek, turning her face him. Ginny looked at him for a moment before staring, unseeing, out of the nearby window.

"It's always you," she said her voice so low Harry had to strain to hear her. Harry felt a dull ache start somewhere in his chest because, as usual, he was the cause of pain. Ginny pulled her hands from his grasp and her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She looked down at the bed for a moment before looking up and directly at Harry.

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't," Ginny said fiercely. Harry fell silent. Ginny tilted her head to the side. "When I was ten, my older brother went to Hogwarts and life changed forever." She wrinkled her nose a little as she spoke and Harry smiled because she was telling him the story as if he didn't know it – as if he wasn't part of it.

"Did you feel left behind?" Harry asked her suddenly, remembering the little girl who ran after the train.

"A little," Ginny nodded. "The best part was that I got Mum to myself for a whole year. I never had that before, there was always someone _else_ who needed her to grow back eyebrows or stop something burning or … kill a spider or something."

"What did you do that year?" Harry asked, suddenly realising he really had no idea what Ginny was like before Hogwarts beyond the fact that she'd always been slightly obsessed with the idea of Harry Potter – because that's all anyone ever talked about.

"Well, Ron had to leave his broom behind, so I flew a lot," Ginny said with a glint in her eye. "I had to keep up with my lessons as well and Mum taught me to cook a bit, but mostly we just talked; about girl stuff." Ginny shrugged.

"Girl stuff?" Harry asked sceptically.

"Yeah, you know – the changes in your body and that sort of thing," Ginny laughed at Harry's grimace.

"You spent a year having a sex talk?"

"No, silly," Ginny rolled her eyes affectionately, "emotions and relationships."

"Oh, girl's stuff," Harry smirked. Ginny shoved at his shoulder.

"Ron wrote about you a lot," Ginny said after a short silence. "I didn't believe him at first. I mean, what were the odds – my brother made friends with the one person who fascinated me endlessly? I wanted so badly to be your friend." She trailed off, staring out of the window again, the attempt at lightening the conversation dying.

"Was that your greatest desire?" Harry asked after a moment and Ginny nodded. "And your greatest fear?"

"Talking to you," Ginny admitted. "It wasn't like a separate fear though. It was like one was tied up in the other. I don't know how to explain it. It was like the absolute best thing in the world that could happen was for you to see me, for me to see you and yet it was also the worst thing that could happen. The only thing, and the last thing, I wanted was to talk to you."

"I know what you mean," Harry said softly. "It's like knowing you want to kiss Ginny and being absolutely petrified that Ron will find out about it." Ginny laughed.

"Is that what you were talking about?" she asked him suddenly. "About your desires and fears colliding – that they are so tangled up in each other they are part of the same thing?"

"Yeah, I reckon it is."

"In first year …" Ginny seemed unable to keep talking and hugged her legs even tighter. She took a deep breath. "It wasn't so much that I was lonely, not at first, but the – the diary wanted to hear me talk about you and nobody else did. Well ... that's not true. Fred and George did – but only to take the mickey. Ron just wanted to warn me off. He kept telling me you were _his_ friend and to lay off."

"And then it collided in the diary," Harry said, beginning to see what Ginny meant. "You wanted us to be friends and Riddle wanted to …"

"Hurt you," Ginny said bluntly.

"It took courage to get through that," Harry said. "But it took you more to … keep going. You know … afterwards. You made that look so easy."

"It wasn't," Ginny said. She shrugged, letting her hair fall across her face like a curtain as she stared down at the floor. "I'm a good actress. Some days it was really, really hard. At first it was just such a relief – you know, not to have a secret anymore. But once I got home and Mum started fussing … I was glad to go to Egypt actually. It distracted people from staring at me like some sort of exhibit.

"There was one day I wanted to just run, run away and not look back. I got into a fight with Ron over flying in the orchard. He didn't want me to go with him and he said something like he wasn't going to risk his neck for me again if I ended up hurt. It would have been so easy to just leave. It took everything I had to turn around and come home in time for tea. Ron made me a chocolate cake."

"Just yesterday I wouldn't know what you meant by that," Harry said, smiling.

"Finally had time for us to initiate you," Ginny said with a smirk.

"It'd be so easy for me to give up now," Harry said, reaching out and tugging Ginny's hand from around her knees. "Now that I've done what I thought was the hard part. There's a part of me that just wants to go and … curl up in a ball somewhere and let the world go by – because I've done enough, you know? But that's like letting him win. Real courage is listening to you and being there for you and being … part of a family."

"You've been a part of our family since you were eleven," Ginny said, puzzled.

"I never let myself be," Harry said. "And I don't think I really knew what it meant." Ginny let her legs drop, sitting cross-legged on the bed. She gazed at Harry for a moment and he smiled at her. He didn't think he could explain it anymore; there weren't really any words for how he felt so Harry just leaned forward and kissed her softly.

"Miss Weasley, you are free to go." Madam Pomfrey's voice broke the kiss off before Harry deepened it. The matron was gone with a swish of her robes before Harry had even opened his eyes.

"We should go help Hermione," Ginny said.

"And rescue Ron," Harry added. He squeezed her hand gently. "I really am sorry. I'll try and stop blaming myself and … remember I have a family."

"I'll make sure Mum gives me her chocolate cake recipe," Ginny said. "We may need it a lot." Harry laughed.

"We might."

* * *

The rest of February passed in a haze of studying, research and Quidditch practice. The next game for Gryffindor wasn't for a couple of months, but Ginny's trial at the Harpies was in April, over the Easter break, and Harry kept practices just as rigorous as if they had a game the next week. Her injuries had healed relatively quickly and her aim was now so accurate that she actually scared Kyle Thorpe and Harry had to give the second year more than a few pep talks to get him back in the air after Ginny had finished with him.

Kingsley sent word that the two men they'd captured inside Hogwarts refused to talk about what they had been doing there and why they wanted Harry. The suspicion was that they were under some kind of enchantment preventing them from revealing any information. Harry scowled at the news.

"How can we find out what they want if they can't tell us anything?" He fumed to Hermione as they sat in the Defence classroom watching Ginny and Neville patiently teach the Slytherin students how to cast a Patronus.

"Well it protects whoever sent them," Hermione pointed out. "We still don't know who it is that wants to get to you."

"And why," Harry said. "George has gotten all protective when I drop by the shop now. He insisted on escorting me to The Burrow last week. I was only going through the Floo!"

"Well, at least we know they're in Azkaban now," Hermione said with a shrug. The idea that anyone could be after Harry seemed so far fetched as the weather cleared and spring was so apparently just around the corner and it was easy to forget that there was something going on outside the walls of Hogwarts.

Harry spent long, blissful afternoons lazing with Ginny in front of the fire playing chess, doing homework or just reading. Hermione was relentless in pursuit of knowledge about the amulet well after Harry and Ginny had given up ever finding anything. Ginny tried to enter the room while wearing the amulet but it steadfastly refused to let her in. The result was the same for Ron and Hermione. They even tried Luna but no one was surprised when nothing happened. Hermione didn't find any reference to Gryffindor's amulet in any of the books Luna suggested, including Jeremy Jollyfig's _Jewellery Jaunts_, P.A. Dunbar's _So You Think You Have a Rare Artefact? _or _How to Spot an Ancient Relic in Ten Easy Steps_ by Amelia Finke. They'd combed the Restricted Section and thoroughly investigated the shelf on Magical History, risking their lives in the cloud of dust they stirred up. Still nothing of relevance came up although Ron swore loudly when he found no less than six references to Ravenclaw's diadem.

"It was here the whole time," he grumbled. "And it still took us forever to find it."

"Well, we didn't exactly research jewellery before, Ron," Hermione said primly.

"I know that," Ron said, "but I do remember reading this book three times when looking for information on Nicholas Flamel."

"He had a Philosopher's Stone," Luna said idly, turning a page in _Most Glorious and Powerful Runes and Objects of the Welsh Country_.

"We know," Ron said shortly.

"He doesn't have one anymore," Luna commented dreamily, turning a page. "Daddy says the wrackspurts got him."

"Yes, I'm sure that's what it was," Hermione muttered, picking up a large tome titled _Magical Gemstones and Where to Find Them _and setting it down in front of her with rather more force than was necessary.

Ron refused to spend the Saturday after his birthday in the library so he and Hermione went into Hogsmeade instead. Harry spent the morning in front of the Quidditch hoops trying to block Ginny's shots.

"D'you suppose if we went back to the room and tried waking her up …?" Ginny asked thoughtfully as the pair made their way back to the castle for lunch.

"I've already tried to wake her up a couple of times," Harry said with a shrug. "She never stirs."

"I just wish she'd tell us what we really need to know," Ginny said, kicking at a rock on the path in frustration.

"She said she had," Harry sighed. "Dumbledore had it, he left it behind the last time, Fawkes came to get him out. So … he needed it to get in and out."

"But I had it, and I still couldn't get out," Ginny said, brow furrowed in thought. "I still have it and I can't back in again. See it doesn't make any sense."

"Well only if it works the same way for you as it did for Dumbledore," Harry said. "Maybe it works differently for you? No one can use it unless they have great courage – she did say that … and sanctuary, it gives sanctuary."

"It gives sanctuary to the courageous," Ginny mused.

"I can get in that room because of sacrifice," Harry said. "So can Neville."

"It has to be tied to the Sword," Ginny said, turning around and walking backwards to the castle.

"She said … Dumbledore made a sacrifice but that wasn't what opened the room to him," Harry said, rubbing his forehead. "She said he sacrificed love but his courage opened up the room to him. My sacrifice opened the room to me but I don't have enough courage."

"She talks in riddles," Ginny grumbled. "None of that means anything."

"I know," Harry sighed, reaching to take Ginny's hand. "Hermione's made me tell her six times what she said to me and she still hasn't figured out anything beyond the fact that Neville and I coming along, both having summoned the Sword have made the room available again."

"So, there's nothing behind the panels?"

"Dunno," Harry shrugged, "but we've stopped looking. We spend all our time in the library now, don't we?"

"Let's not think about it anymore," Ginny said impulsively. She tugged on Harry's hand. "Let's go and do something fun!"

"I said I'd go see Teddy this afternoon," Harry said regretfully. He winced as Ginny's face fell. Harry pulled her to him and folded his arms around her. "I wish I could take you with me but you know how McGonagall gets when Hermione and I both leave the grounds."

"That's okay," Ginny said, leaning her cheek against his chest. "I'll just … study or … something …"

"I'll come back early," Harry promised.

"Will you come back bearing gifts?" Ginny turned her brown eyes up to his beseechingly.

"Absolutely," Harry said, leaning down to kiss her. "What sort of gifts would you like?"

"Chocolate frogs," Ginny said promptly.

"Really?" Harry wrinkled his nose.

"I have a bet going with Neville," Ginny explained. "I bet him that I would find a Neville Longbottom card before he finds a Harry Potter card." Harry shook his head ruefully and kissed her on the nose.

"Come on then," he said, "let's go have lunch so you can get in some quality study time before you get distracted by the chocolate frogs."

"You never know," Ginny mused as they entered the castle. "I might even get an Agrippa …"

*****************

It was a bleak Wednesday in mid-March before they had any sort of break through in researching the amulet. Professor McGonagall had been unable to recall any specific legends about Gryffindor or his descendants and had never heard about any significant jewellery, but that morning had handed Harry several scrolls and a book.

"They are from Professor Dumbledore's private library," the Headmistress said. "He had a number of volumes regarding the founders. These seem as though they might be helpful." It was in the book that Ginny found the first mention of the amulet.

"Godric Gryffindor had it made for his wife," Ginny read, "out of Welsh gold."

"Welsh gold?" Neville asked. "Is that different to normal gold?"

"It's very rare," Hermione said. "Does it tell you if it's magical?"

"Well obviously it's magical, Hermione," Harry said irritably. "Why else would we be researching the thing?"

"It just says he gave it to his wife and said 'True love to me, my token keeps thee safe from harm and protects thee til I come'," Ginny said, turning the page and scanning it. "Then it just talks about rubies …" Ginny trailed off and Harry threw down his quill with a sigh.

"Does it even matter?" he asked. "It's been a month now and nothing else has happened. Maybe it was just one of those things the castle does from time to time."

"Of course it _matters_," Hermione said with a huff. "Don't you want to _know_?"

"Not particularly, Hermione," Harry said. "Who cares where some old piece of metal and rubies came from?"

"What if it has an enchantment on it?" Hermione shot back.

"Bill checked it," Harry said. "I had him do it when I was at Gringotts the other day."

"I didn't know you were at Gringotts," Ginny said idly, turning another page in the book from Dumbledore's library.

"I thought there might be some books in the vault," Harry shrugged. "You know – something that could help. There were just a lot of old text books and a couple of really dodgy looking romance novels. I found a trunk I couldn't get open and I … well I brought the trunk of photographs back with me."

"Romance novels?" Hermione asked him. "Since when do wizards have romance novels?"

"Oh Mum's got heaps," Ginny said, looking up from the book. "Roberto Valentine writes them. Name's bloody obvious, but it's just a bunch of writers making up impossible love stories. I read one once where this wizard actually grew his hair out so that he could cut it off and his lover could use it to embroider something … some sort of token or talisman or something. So when he didn't come home on a long hunting trip or wherever it was he went, she could use the embroidery to call him or something. Then he'd know she missed him, you see, and hurry home. Pathetic."

"Oh, I don't know," Hermione said, sighing. "That sort of thing could be useful." Ginny pulled a face.

"Or what about the one where the wizard gave his true love an enchanted necklace," Luna added. "My mother was reading that one when she died. I couldn't leave the poor book unread, so I finished it."

"Oh what happened?" Hermione asked eagerly. Ginny rolled her eyes and went back to Dumbledore's book as Luna continued.

"He put his birthstone in it," Luna said, "and he said that if she was ever in danger, as long as she was wearing that the castle would open up to her and keep her safe until he came for her."

"What castle?" Neville asked.

"Hogwarts of course," Luna said as she flipped open one of the scrolls and began to read it.

"Don't be ridiculous, Luna," Ginny said. "None of those stories are set in Hogwarts! They are full of heaving bosoms and tight breeches and the covers have scantily-clad witches on them. Can you imagine the uproar if the publishing company set any of them in _Hogwarts_?"

"There weren't any heaving bosoms in this one," Luna said quite seriously. "It was in a plain leather cover. I think it must have been a very old book and I don't know who wrote it, it was only signed gee-gee."

"Wait!" Hermione held up a hand. "Luna, do you still have this book?"

"Oh yes," Luna replied. "I kept it safe because it was very special to my mother. She told me it had once belonged to someone very important."

"I think it's the story of the amulet," Hermione said urgently. "Don't you see? Gee-gee is Godric Gryffindor. The necklace is the amulet."

"Well, I suppose it's possible," Luna said airily. "Would you like me to have father send the book when he gets a moment?"

"Yes please," Hermione said fervently. She began scribbling on the parchment in front of her. Harry shook his head and went back to reading the scroll in front of him.

"Godric Gryffindor was born in July," Ginny muttered absently. "Did you know that? Legend has it that true Gryffindors are born in July … rubies are the birthstone for July … they hold magical powers longer than any other gemstone … what's a true Gryffindor anyway? Does it make you less of a Gryffindor to be born somewhen else in the year? What a load of baloney …"

"Maybe it's not," Harry said slowly. He turned to look at Neville. "Dumbledore said I was a true Gryffindor. Only true Gryffindors can pull the Sword out of the Hat."

"But … Ron used the Sword," Hermione said.

"Yes, but he didn't pull it out of the Hat," Harry said. "What if that's why it's Neville and me? We're both born in July; we both pulled the Sword out of the Hat. The room recognises the existence of more than one true Gryffindor and it … opens."

"I thought Dumbledore only said that thing about true Gryffindor because he was reassuring you that you weren't secretly supposed to be a Slytherin," Hermione argued.

"I'm just saying," Harry said, "that it's one way of looking at it. I think anyone can be a true Gryffindor but what if … what if there's something to this July thing?"

"That's why Dumbledore could use the amulet," Ginny said slowly. "He was born in July too."

"If it's the same as this necklace in Luna's book …" Neville said slowly.

"It opened the room for Ginny because Harry gave it to her," Hermione said. "And she couldn't get out again because it was keeping her safe until he came for her."

"Of course," Luna said, looking up at them. "She's his true love so it would work for her."


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46. Facing Reality**

Ron was entirely unconvinced when Harry and Hermione shared their findings about the Gryffindor room and the amulet on his next visit. Ginny had somehow talked several members of the Slytherin Quidditch team into helping her practice and Harry had refused to leave the stands while she was on the pitch with them. Ron was scowling, huddled in his cloak, as he watched his sister and argued with Harry.

"It's a load of rot about true Gryffindors," he said. "For a start, how does when you're born make you better-"

"I didn't say better, Ron," Harry sighed heavily.

"It just means certain enchantments are … available," Hermione said.

"So what?" Ron said defiantly. "I used that ruddy sword and I wasn't born in July."

"It's not about _using_ it, Ron," Harry tried to explain again. "It's about pulling it out of the Hat."

"I pulled it out of a pond," Ron argued back. "A bloody freezing pond I might add."

"Yeah and Snape put it in there," Harry said. "I don't think you even have to be a Gryffindor to touch it or use it. I'm just saying – it fits. Why else is it me and Neville?"

"But if you think people who weren't born in July aren't Gryffindors-"

"That's not what I think!" Harry almost shouted the words.

"I suspect it's an archaic form of use," Hermione said pensively. "The word true also means straight, for example, in some contexts."

"Oh, so I'm bent now am I?" Ron asked.

"I think you're taking this too personally," Harry muttered, turning to look at the pitch as Ginny rolled out of the way of a Bludger.

"I think you should stop worrying about the bloody meaning of the word true and start figuring out who wants you dead," Ron muttered belligerently.

"Ron-"

"Don't bloody deny it again!" Ron said. "First the Quintaped and now thugs sent to get you. George told me what they said, even if you're not willing to. He's worried, Harry. He's getting very tense and keeps asking if I've heard from you and asking Mum how you're doing. He went down to the Ministry the other day and sat outside Kingsley's office – wouldn't leave until Kingsley spoke to him."

"Why?" Harry wondered aloud. "It doesn't sound like George …"

"It's bloody annoying," Ron grumbled.

"Your brother is concerned about Harry and all you can do is call him annoying!" Hermione said indignantly. "I think its sweet he cares."

"Well you wouldn't think he was so _sweet_ if you knew he just laughed at me the other day when Percy startled me and I got my foot stuck in a cauldron," Ron grumbled. Harry snickered.

"Honestly Ron," Hermione said, hiding a smile, "that would have been quite funny, but Harry's actually in real danger. George is right to be concerned."

"Gee, thanks Hermione, now I feel loads better." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Well, it is time you admitted it," Hermione replied loftily. "I've tried to talk to you about it but …"

"He probably distracted you," Ron scowled, "like he does to everyone. Kingsley had to reassure George that he was out here strengthening the wards at McGonagall's request – he only relaxed because Harry's at Hogwarts – he's gone all funny again this week."

"Look," Harry said patiently. "I'm not a complete idiot and I think I can stay alive – you know? I've had a lot of practice at it." Ron glared at him.

"I just want to know why," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Who would want to get to Harry now?"

"Next Dark Lord, maybe?" Ron said sarcastically. "They might see him as a threat."

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione scoffed. "Next Dark Lord …"

"It might be the vampires," said Luna's airy voice suddenly. Harry looked up to find her and Neville approaching.

"What vampires?" Ron asked, rolling his eyes.

"Daddy says they've come to talk to the Minister about the regulations," Luna said, wide-eyed. "They don't think its fair they can only come out at night."

"Well, it isn't anyone's fault they are sensitive to sunlight," Hermione said waspishly. She seemed annoyed that the conversation was straying from Harry's imminent demise at the hands of persons unknown and glared at Luna fiercely.

"They'll burn up!" Ron said. "That's a little bit more than _sensitive_!"

"No they won't Ronald," Luna said serenely, seating herself next to Harry. "They just can't stand the brightness. That's why they want to move the coven here."

"What?" Ron yelped. "They want to move the vampire coven here? Near children? Are they mad?"

"They have as much right to live here as we do, Ron," Hermione said.

"I'm not sending my kids to Hogwarts if there's a vampire coven nearby," Ron said emphatically. "They're undead! Fifty years is like a minute to them! They'll still be here in twelve years!"

"And you'll have a child ready for Hogwarts in twelve years, will you?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I … might," Ron subsided and blushed.

"Send him covered in garlic," Neville said. "He'll be fine."

"And permanently cripple him with women?" Ron scoffed. "I don't think so!"

"We might have a girl," Hermione said sharply before blushing heavily.

"I don't think the vampires are after me," Harry said, struggling not to laugh as Ron and Hermione avoided each other's gaze with the type of dedication Hermione reserved for studying Ancient Runes.

"I would have thought you'd be safe now, Harry," Neville said quietly. Harry shrugged; he was uncomfortable thinking about it. He stared out across the pitch, watching Ginny sail past the Slytherin Beaters and let a Quaffle fly towards the hoops. The Beaters narrowly avoided the Bludgers they'd sent at Ginny and began spiralling out of control towards the ground.

Harry stood up abruptly, aware that he was too far away to do anything, and winced as they crashed in a heap on the ground. Draco Malfoy swore vehemently as he swooped past Ginny, nearly unseating her as Harry jumped over the seats and ran for the stairs as quickly as he could, one eye on Ginny swinging dangerously in front of the hoops and one eye on the two second year Beaters writhing on the ground. As Harry thundered down the stairs he could hear Ron thumping after him and Neville scrambling behind. It sounded as though Neville had fallen but Harry didn't stop to spare either of them a glance. He pelted out of the stands and across the pitch in time to see Ginny lose the battle with her balance and fall off her broom.

Harry was close enough to hear her swear viciously as she twisted in the air, trying to grab her broom handle. She managed to get one hand on a handful of twigs but they broke off and the broom went spiralling out of control, knocking the Slytherin Keeper into the hoops, where he hung, groaning, as his broom crashed into Ginny's spectacularly before both brooms plummeted to the ground and splintered into several jagged pieces. Harry snatched his wand out and screamed a levitation spell to prevent Ginny from crashing into the ground. It felt like hours, but Harry knew the whole thing had taken only seconds and he trembled from the intensity of it.

"What the hell was that, Malfoy?" Ginny spat at Malfoy the moment her feet touched the ground. She stalked over to him when he landed next to one of the Beaters casting his broom aside.

"That was my Beaters taking a dive," Malfoy said, glaring at her before dropping to his knees next to the moaning second year who was holding his arm at an unnatural angle. Blood pulsed from a wound near his elbow. Harry strode towards Ginny, ignoring the other Beater and stepping over him to get to her.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked urgently, pulling Ginny towards him as he realised his knees were shaking so hard he didn't now how he was still standing. Ginny just nodded, letting him hold her. She was trembling violently.

Harry could see Hermione conjuring a stretcher while Ron flew up, on Malfoy's broom, to rescue the stranded Keeper. Neville had dropped to his knees beside the other Beater and was talking quietly to him, waving his wand carefully over his leg.

"It's a shame," Luna said absently as she wandered over. "It looks like the Nargles got them."

"What are you talking about, you stupid-"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron growled as he came abruptly to a stop and practically tipped the trembling Slytherin Keeper onto the grass.

"We've got a game in less than six weeks," Malfoy spat at Ron. "I can't believe I let you talk us into this, Weasley." He turned and glared at Ginny.

"This could have happened anyway, Draco," Hermione said calmly, levitating her conjured stretcher over to Neville. "It's not Ginny's fault."

"Yeah, it's not her fault your team's a bunch of-"

"Ron," Harry said warningly.

"What?" Ron asked. "Aren't you just a little more concerned that his incompetent bloody Quidditch players could have killed Ginny? Or is your apparent death wish being transferred to her now?" Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Ron," Hermione said quietly. "Don't." Her voice trembled. Harry opened his eyes. Neville had been wearing a cloak and had taken it off to cover the injured Beater now lying white-faced on Hermione's stretcher. He had removed his shirt and was using strips torn from it to bandage the arm of the other Beater who was bleeding profusely.

The sun was shining weakly on Neville's back as he worked methodically to wrap the frail arm of the younger boy, puckered, silvery lines almost glistening in the spring sunshine. Hundreds of them criss-crossed Neville's back, the welts leaving very little of his back unmarred.

"Hermione, are you going to take Samuels to Madam Pomfrey?" Neville asked quietly, not looking up.

"What happened?" Hermione asked in horror.

"He fell off his broom, silly," Luna said serenely, waving her wand and lifting the stretcher into the air.

"Not to Samuels," Hermione said stiffly, "to Neville."

"Oh," Luna stopped and squinted at Neville for a moment. "He must have run out of clean undershirts." She twirled her wand haphazardly but the stretcher did begin moving towards the castle.

"Don't worry about it, Hermione," Neville said as he straightened up and put a steadying arm out to the remaining Beater as Malfoy pulled him to his feet. Neville addressed the boy. "Can you walk?"

"I'll take him to the hospital wing," Malfoy said quietly. "Thanks, Longbottom." He turned to where Harry and Ginny stood. "Sorry." The word was short, curt and barely sincere, but Harry didn't care to confront Malfoy over it. Harry watched as Malfoy urged his trembling Keeper to accompany him and, slinging the Beater's good arm over his shoulder, he trudged back to the castle. The Slytherin Chasers disappeared into the change rooms at a nod from Malfoy. Harry, Ron and Hermione gazed at Neville who was staring at the grass under his feet.

"Neville … about your back," Hermione said, clearly unwilling to let the issue drop.

"I told you," Neville mumbled before he dragged his eyes up to meet theirs. "They liked to spill blood." He shrugged.

"But Neville-"

"Just how often were you in detention, mate?" Ron asked. Neville just shrugged.

"All the time," Ginny whispered suddenly. She waved a shaky hand towards Neville. "But that wasn't detention."

"What happened?" Hermione asked, her voice soft, terrified. Neville avoided her gaze, collecting the remnants of both Ginny's broom and the Nimbus the Slytherin keeper had been using.

"The downside to Seamus teaching us all how to kick blokes in their bollocks," Ginny said quietly, "was that every time we did it … they'd do … that." She indicated the scars on Neville's back.

"It was retaliation for self-defence?" Hermione asked. Ginny nodded.

"I guess they figured they could knock out two Snidgets with one spell," Ginny said. "If they stalked and flogged the blokes for teaching us how to … incapacitate, they figured we'd stop kicking their-"

"Why didn't you just _Reducto_ their package?" Ron demanded.

"If we tried magical defence, instead of just trying to _rape_ us on the spot, they'd hand us over to the Carrows for their special detentions," Ginny spat. She continued softly. "For using magic outside a classroom." Ron blanched.

"What was the other pay-off?" Harry asked quietly.

"Well, if we didn't try and …" Ginny waved a hand uncomfortably. She took a breath. "If we tried to stop them flogging the seventh years by not defending ourselves, they figured not only would they protect their _package_ they'd still get to …" she trailed off again, unable to voice it.

"It's one of the reasons we took to waiting outside detentions." Neville shrugged, dropping the shards of broomstick at Ginny's feet. "It was easier to threaten them before the girls had to defend themselves. That way we'd only have to take a slight beating to face to face instead of wondering which one of us they'd sneak up on later. Hannah and Susan said Ernie was unconscious for two days when he got surprised after lunch one day."

"But _what_ does that?" Ron asked, horrified as he shrugged his own cloak off and handed it to Neville. "What sort of spell can do that?"

"Oh, it's not a spell," Ginny said viciously. "It's a cat o' nine tails." Hermione gasped.

"That's barbaric," Ron growled.

"No argument from me, mate," Neville grunted as he slung Ron's cloak around his own shoulders and headed off the pitch. The other four stared after him.

"I can't believe …" Hermione trailed off, looking helplessly at Ginny.

"It was awful," Ginny said, looking at nothing. "You've no idea how many sheets we had to tear to bandage them. I think they went after Neville more often than the others. I know they got Ernie's younger brother once and it was bad. He wasn't as big as the others, or as strong. After that … Neville made everyone travel in packs and he and Seamus got the other seventh years to stand guard after detentions. It worked, mostly. I know we tried to avoid kicking but … well …"

"Neville would rather have taken that than see any of the girls … injured," Hermione said.

"Maybe that's what being a true Gryffindor is," Ron said quietly as he hunched his shoulders against the chill, his eyes on Neville's retreating back.

"It seems like just when I think we heard it all … there's something new we didn't know about," Hermione said. "Are we ever going to know the full horror of what went on here last year?"

"I doubt it," Ginny answered her, scooping up the remains of the broomsticks. "I think you really had to be here." She shot the three of them an apologetic look before she hurried after Neville.

"Oi, where-" Ron started, annoyed. Harry put a hand on his arm and shook his head. Ron just looked at Harry in confusion.

"Leave them," Harry said softly.

"But … doesn't it bother you?"

"Why would it bother me?" Harry asked, watching as Ginny caught up to Neville and touched him gently on the arm. Neville turned to her and they exchanged a few words before Ginny put her arm around him and the two of them made their way slowly towards the castle.

"That doesn't bother you?" Ron asked incredulously, gesturing wildly at Ginny and Neville.

"No," Harry said quietly. "They've been through a lot – stuff I wasn't here for. I can't … I can't help her deal with everything." He began collecting the Quidditch balls, wrestling the Bludgers back into the ball chest with great difficulty.

"But you're her boyfriend, not Neville," Ron persisted, following Harry doggedly.

"I'm not her keeper, Ron," Harry said, annoyed. "Ginny and I are both aware that we have … some things that … just forget it."

"She doesn't tell you stuff?"

"She does," Harry said, picking up one end of the ball chest and waiting pointedly for Ron to do the same. "We tell each other everything. It doesn't mean there aren't some things she shares with other people as well."

Ron grasped the ball chest and lifted it. Harry strode off without waiting to see if Ron was ready, Hermione trailing after them. Harry shouldered open the equipment room and dropped the ball chest heavily on the floor. He sighed, running his hands through his hair.

"She shouldn't need anyone else," Ron persisted. Hermione glared at him and he stared back at her unabashed.

"You are such a caveman," Hermione huffed.

"Oh, come on," Ron said, throwing his hands in the air. "_You_ don't have someone else – some other bloke."

"I have Harry," Hermione said quietly. Ron stared at her for a moment.

"But that's … that's different."

"Not really," Hermione said. Ron stared at them for a moment.

"But – he – you're like …" Ron stumbled to a stop.

"Ron, really," Harry said shouldering past to get to the door, "don't worry about it, I'm not."

"I just ... want you guys to work," Ron said, barely loud enough for Harry to hear.

"We do work, Ron," Harry said, "and we work best when we trust each other." He crossed his arms and eyed Ron pointedly.

"I'm sorry," Ron said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I shouldn't interfere …"

"No, you shouldn't," Harry said as he walked towards the exit from the pitch.

"But I do think you should be paying more attention to the fact that someone's out to get you," Ron called. Harry froze.

"He's right," Hermione said. Harry turned slowly to see the two of them standing together. Hermione was wringing her hands and Ron's brow was furrowed.

"I'm worried," Ron said simply. "I know I mocked George but … if he wasn't playing bodyguard I would be."

"A Quintaped, Harry," said Hermione in a low voice.

"Hagrid has always had a thing-"

"Don't ignore it," Ron said harshly. "Sure maybe you could write that off as a coincidence if it wasn't for these …" He trailed off waving his hands, frustrated.

"Goons," Hermione supplied.

"Yeah, the goons," Ron said, crossing his arms over his chest. "If it wasn't for them we could say the Quintaped was a freak accident but there were goons, so we can't." He nodded firmly.

Harry's shoulders sagged. He knew he'd been avoiding it – by spending time with Hermione who was only interested in the mystery of the Gryffindor room, and Ginny who only wanted to get him alone. If Harry was honest with himself he had to admit he'd been avoiding Ron because he knew his oldest friend would want to make him face facts.

"Nothing happened, Kingsley strengthened the wards, everything's fine," Harry said tiredly.

"Stop it," Ron shot back. "Just stop it. Stop pretending it's not happening."

"What do you want me to do, Ron?" Harry shouted, throwing his arms wide. "I'm done living my life looking over my shoulder. I'm tired. I can't do this anymore, and you know what? If they want to get me so bad, maybe we should just let them!"

"Don't say that!" Ron shouted. "You don't mean that!"

"What if I do?" Harry asked quietly. Hermione shook her head, she was trembling slightly and looked as if she were about to cry.

"You don't," Ron said firmly. He crossed his arms over his chest again and glared at Harry.

"What do we know?" Harry asked sarcastically. "A rare creature that shouldn't be here was here. It was in my room when it shouldn't have been. Thugs are out to get me when they shouldn't be – I'm a bloody hero – remember?" He glared at Ron, breathing heavily.

"It's not a lot to go on," Hermione said, fidgeting with the hem of her jumper.

"We've figured out stuff on a lot less," Ron said stoically.

"I don't want to figure it out, Ron," Harry said. "I just … I just want to be a normal bloke. I want to finish with school and then I want to rent a dingy little flat with mismatched furniture and a wonky loo that you have to thump to make it flush. I want to go my boring job every predictable morning and on the weekends go to watch Quidditch and then dissect the game at the pub afterwards with my mates and … and then …"

"And then what?" Ron demanded. Harry remained silent. Ron stepped closer to him. "And then what?"

"Nothing, and then nothing," Harry said. "Just forget about it."

"No," Ron said forcefully. "What then? What else?"

"Nothing else," Harry said defiantly.

"Bull," Ron said firmly. He swore colourfully before continuing. "That is _not _even what you want to do."

"Of course it is," Harry protested hotly. "That's what every bloke wants."

"Are you really like every other bloke?" Ron asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes," Harry said with more certainty than he actually felt.

"All right then," Ron said with a smirk. "After you've been to your Quidditch game and dissected it down the pub and you're back in your flea infested little flat with the ugly couch – what then?"

"I don't know," Harry said warily, "whatever it is that people do." Ron rolled his eyes.

"Don't lie," Ron said. "You have bigger plans than that and they don't involve dodgy toilet cisterns and lumpy couches."

"We've been through so much," Hermione said. "We can get through one more thing."

"But it's not going to be one more thing," Harry argued. "After this it's going to be something else and then another thing and _then_ one more thing."

"And when have we ever let you deal with it on your own?" Ron asked quietly. "Now, what is it you really want? And don't give me crap about a dingy bachelor pad."

"You'll think I'm daft," Harry muttered.

"No we won't," Hermione said immediately. Harry raised one eyebrow at her and shook his head once before sighing.

"I want a place for Teddy," Harry said quietly. "Somewhere he can visit so we can spend time with him."

"That's not daft," Ron said.

"It's not normal," Harry sighed.

"Neither are you."

"Gee thanks, Ron." Harry scowled.

"You know what I mean," Ron said firmly. "And that's how I know I'm right that you don't want to just … let someone kill you." Ron grimaced as he spat the words out.

"You don't want to leave Teddy," Hermione said. She looked almost smug and Harry scowled at her too, unwilling to admit that she and Ron were right.

"Okay," Harry said with a sigh. "We'll figure this out." He ran a hand through his hair as he stomped off the pitch and towards the castle.

He could sense Ron's smug smile and Hermione's satisfaction as he stalked away from them.

**************

Harry was wandering idly along the fifth floor corridor when Professor Thistlewaite beckoned to him. The professor never usually paid much attention to Harry. After the first week or so Harry had taken pity on the man and sat at the back of the classroom, quietly transfiguring things so as not to startle him. Harry couldn't think of a single time he'd seen the professor outside of classes or meals.

"J-J-Just the boy I wanted to see," Professor Thistlewaite stammered, shifting from one foot to another as he hovered in an alcove. He was twisting his hands in front of him and his hat was slowly slipping over his right ear. Harry was forcibly reminded of Professor Quirrell and was unable to hide a shiver.

"What can I do for you, Professor?" Harry asked politely, stopping several feet away, hoping he could shake off the man quickly and get back up to the tower before someone came looking for him.

It wasn't often Harry was alone these days. Ron and Hermione had enlisted Harry's dorm mates to help them figure out who might be out to get Harry. For the past week none of them left him alone for a minute. He'd had to practically beg Seamus to let him shower alone and once hexed Dean for following him to the toilet. Ginny had taken to throwing murderous glances at Neville because he had insisted on accompanying them to the Gryffindor room to 'study the runes'. Harry was only alone at the present time because Donald Smythe and Sebastian Hornblower had been distracted by two blonde Hufflepuffs in the library.

"Th-Thought we might have a c-c-cup of tea," the professor said with a nervous twitch to his left eye.

"Oh well I really do have to-"

"I just g-g-g-got new cream b-b-b-biscuits."

"Well … I guess …"

"Melvin, a word?" Professor Fiesche's voice was smooth, velvety, as it floated over Harry's shoulder. Professor Thistlewaite started visibly and Harry jumped as the Defence Professor's cat hissed viciously and jumped lightly to the floor.

"I-I-I was j-just about to have t-tea with H-H-Harry," Professor Thistlewaite said, attempting to draw himself further upright.

"Yes, yes," Fiesche said dismissively. "I'm sure Mr Potter has plenty of … revising to do." He eyed Harry grimly as he said it and his cat stalked imperiously between the two professors.

"Erm, yeah," Harry muttered. "Potions, essay. I'll um … see you later, Professors." Harry backed away slowly as Fiesche plastered an insincere smile on his face and Thistlewaite grimaced and gave a half wave before the cat hissed at him.

The timid Transfiguration professor jumped and began murmuring something to his colleague. Professor Fiesche nodded as Thistlewaite scurried away. The cat sprang lightly back up Fiesche's robes, balancing on his shoulder and curled up on his head. Fiesche gave Harry a parting glance as he strode away and Harry wondered again why that particular professor always looked at him with such loathing.

Deep in thought, Harry wandered up to the seventh floor and absently gave the Fat Lady the password. He clambered through the portrait hole wondering, not for the first time, why Professor Fiesche's cat sat on his head. Harry was about to throw his bag on the hearth rug and himself onto his favourite couch when he realised that the common room was entirely silent. Looking up he saw several groups of students studying at the small tables spread around the room and Hermione, hands on hips, glaring at him from mere inches away.

"_Where_ have you been?" she demanded icily.

"Coming back from the library," Harry said wearily. Neville was glaring at him and Dean looked affronted. Donald Smythe and Sebastian Hornblower were sitting on the couch behind them looking dejected.

"Alone?" shrieked Hermione. Harry winced. He glanced around the common room but any student who happened to still be in there studiously avoided his eyes.

"We've been out looking for you," Seamus said suddenly, materialising from behind the couch. "When these two jokers were caught napping-"

"Don't blame them," Harry said in exasperation. "I ditched _them_."

"Oh no," Dean interrupted. "We blame Cynthia and Maude Hoffman."

"Honestly," Seamus shook his head. "Hufflepuffs …"

"There's nothing wrong with Hufflepuffs,' Neville murmured.

"The point _is_," Hermione said through clenched teeth, "that Harry should know better than to wander the castle completely unprotected!"

"I was with Professor Fiesche if you must know," Harry said grumpily, sinking into one of the arm chairs.

"That's not exactly comforting," Neville said pointedly. "We've all seen the way he looks at you."

"Yeah, as though he'd like to use you for stunning practice – in the middle of the lake," Seamus said.

"He is a bit creepy," Donald added.

"He didn't do anything," Harry shrugged. "Thistlewaite was trying to get me to have a cup of tea and sample his new biscuits when Fiesche suddenly appeared out of nowhere, got me off the hook."

"You're going soft for old Dickfish?" Dean asked. Hermione groaned.

"He's the creepy one," Sebastian added.

"Dickfish, honestly," Hermione muttered, crossing her arms and glaring.

"Do you often have tea with professors, Harry?" Neville asked pensively. "It seems a bit odd …"

"Unless you count Slughorn … never," Harry replied.

"What about Professor Lupin?" Dean asked. "Didn't you used to have tea with him sometimes when you weren't allowed in Hogsmeade?"

"Oh, that reminds me, Harry," Hermione said. "You really shouldn't go into Hogsmeade this weekend." But Harry wasn't paying her any attention.

"Damn, I forgot about Teddy," he cried, leaping to his feet. He waved one hand at his discarded bag. "Neville, can you chuck that on my bed for me? I'm going to Floo out."

"Where are you going?"

"Teddy's having some sort of … I dunno … some shot or something," Harry said. "I told Andromeda I'd be there."

"Twelve-month Dragon Pox inoculation?" Hermione asked.

"If you say so, Hermione," Harry answered briefly, searching the mantelpiece for the Floo powder. "Can you tell Ginny I'll be back in time for Hogsmeade tomorrow?"

"Harry, I really don't think you should be going anywhere," said Hermione impatiently. "Are you sure this is necessary?"

"I'm his godfather," Harry said shortly, scooping a handful of Floo powder from the pot. "It's necessary."

"Ron is going to be very displeased," said Sebastian Hornblower shaking his head sorrowfully. "We're supposed to keep an eye on you."

"You all need to lighten up," Harry muttered as he threw the powder into the fireplace and vanished. As he spun out of sight Harry wondered at the perplexed look on Hermione's face. She was thinking about something, but Harry had no idea what it might be.

He stumbled out of the Floo in the foyer of St Mungo's, narrowly missing a witch with six arms who was belching orange bubbles. A long line of witches and wizards stretched out from the Welcome Witch and Harry hesitated behind a tall, thin wizard with a set of bagpipes and a soup tureen. His arms were crossed in front of him, his left hand supporting the tureen which, on second glance, appeared to be growing out of his right elbow. The bagpipes dangling from his left elbow wheezed as he sifted restlessly. The wizard's right hand clutched at the bagpipes which were slowly turning the left arm into red and blue tartan.

"This gets more ridiculous every day," muttered a portly wizard who was hovering next to his tall, thin companion. "It's getting so it'll take up to a day before you can get yerself sorted out after an accident. It's not right to make people wait so long."

"I daresay it's often something that could be prevented," the tall, thin wizard said quietly. "I'm not here by choice, you know. If you could resist experimenting with your spell work we wouldn't be in this mess."

"But what if it works?" The portly wizard bounced excitedly, spinning on his toes.

Harry idly wondered what could possibly cause an experimental spell to go so wrong when suddenly the portly wizard grabbed his arm. Harry was startled and took a step back but the wizard just grinned widely.

"Goodness Lester," the tall, thin wizard said impatiently. "You have got to stop accosting people like that."

"It's an honour," the portly Lester breathed reverently. Harry smiled awkwardly and shifted from one foot to the other, not sure how to extricate himself without making a scene.

"Who do you think you've met this time?" asked the tall, thin wizard. "If it's another ruddy Quidditch player …"

"Mr Potter," breathed Lester reverently.

"Oh, well that's ridiculous." The wizard prodded the tureen with his left hand, making the bagpipes wobble as he sighed heavily.

"Pleased to meet you," Harry said, tugging his arm free.

"You can't be," grumbled the tall, thin wizard. "No one is ever pleased to meet Lester."

"Here now, you are always so negative," Lester complained. "I don't see you running for the hills."

"Yes, well, I'm stuck with you, aren't I? Twenty-five years and you're still the only one who can make a cup of tea the way I like it."

"If he says he's please ter meet me, then he is," Lester said indignantly, jerking a thumb at Harry.

"Charmed," Harry muttered, wishing he knew where he was supposed to meet Andromeda and Teddy and that he didn't have to wait in this line.

"Here, you don't look spell damaged or nothin'," Lester said, peering at Harry. "You all right? Not contagious or anything, are you? Fergus is a bit delicate s'all."

"You think you meet Harry Potter and the first thing you ask him is if he's contagious?" Fergus said with a snort.

"Ain't no _think_ about it," Lester said. "This 'ere is Harry Potter and yeah, last thing I want is you catchin' something nasty with yer defences down and all."

"Well who's fault is it we're here?" Fergus snapped. "I'm not the one trying to convert the telling-bone and the tee-pee!"

"Tee-_Vee_," sighed Lester.

"No, I'm not contagious," Harry said. "I'm, um, not here for me …"

"Ah, visitin'," Lester said, nodding. "Lots of people still here o' course – bound to be someone you know." The two wizards nodded solemnly.

"Not sure where they've shifted 'em?" Fergus asked. "I know they kept shiftin' me mam around; was ever so glad to get her home."

"Beats me what sort of things they done to that woman," Lester said, shaking his head. "She ain't never welcomed me afore."

"I told you, Les," Fergus said softly, "she never hated yer. Just didn't … understand."

"Drastic way to come at the fact Muggleborns ain't all bad," Lester grumbled. "Still, she's lucky I guess. Lot's more never made it." Fergus nodded solemnly, the bagpipes on his elbow wheezing slightly as he moved.

"I just, um … don't know where they do the er, the kid's stuff," Harry said ruffling his hair absently.

"Kid's stuff?" Fergus stared at Harry absently. "You're too young to 'ave a kid."

"See! Look, I told you," Lester almost shouted. "See his _scar_, that's Harry Potter!"

Harry cringed as murmuring rumbled through the foyer and people began turning around, whispering, and craning their necks to peer at him.

"Well, I'm sorry, Lester," Fergus said. "It's just you see Harry Potter so often …"

"Okay, maybe last week I was a bit mental, but I still think I saw him in Surrey that time," Lester defended himself.

"That was fifteen years ago, you daft old goat!"

"I was in Surrey fifteen years ago," Harry couldn't help saying. "Of course I was only three …"

"See!" Lester proclaimed loudly. "I told you. I still think that woman was a fool, carting that fat, little porker around in that pushchair and the little tacker dragging along behind …"

"Harry Potter was a fat porker?" asked the woman in front of Fergus.

"Lots of kiddies are fat, Gladys," sighed a thin man who was standing next to her, holding up the extra ear that was growing out of the side of her head, nearly dragging on the ground.

"I don't believe it," Gladys sniffed. "He's always looked ever so skinny – remember that picture they had in the Prophet when he started school? And stop shouting Len, I'm not deaf."

"Oh yes you are," Len muttered. Gladys turned to glare at him.

"Just because I choose not to hear your advances, it does not give you the right to try and enlarge my ears!"

"He tries to make advances on her?" Fergus muttered. "He must be desperate."

"Desperate or married to her and he hasn't got a choice," Lester added.

"Yes, well, I'm not getting married," Fergus muttered. "And if you've got any sense you wouldn't be either."

"Fergus, honey, we've got no prospects anyway," Lester muttered gloomily. He turned to Harry, who wanted to escape but was far too aware of the people all around, staring at him. The couple in front of Fergus and Lester were bickering loudly and the set of bagpipes on Fergus's elbow wheezed alarmingly.

"I can't imagine why, when you call me honey," Fergus grumbled. He turned to Harry. "You haven't got a best mate with a thing for blokes, do you? Sure fire way to kill your own sex life when they walk around calling you honey."

"No one calls me honey," Harry said faintly, scanning the crowd for an escape route. He was startled by a tap on his shoulder. He turned with trepidation.

"They don't have a kiddie section," said the short, blonde witch standing behind him with a second head growing out of her left shoulder. "What exactly is it you need?"

"New brain most likely!" her second head suddenly squawked. The witch slapped a hand over the mouth of the extra head and smiled apologetically.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I keep hoping they can get rid of it permanently but it always seems to grow back. It gets a bit tetchy when I come here to have it removed again."

"I … erm … my godson …" Harry stared at the second head.

"See! I knew he didn't have his own kid," Lester said triumphantly. "Didn't I tell you, Ferg? That Skeeter woman needs to be strung up and shot."

"Is he in here?" the blonde witch behind Harry asked kindly.

"Well not really, he's having a shot or something," Harry clarified. "But I don't know where."

"No, no, no," Lester said shaking his head vigorously. "I didn't say the kid needed to be shot, don't do nothing hasty!"

"No, a shot like … when you want to stop a disease," Harry said, exasperated.

"Oh!" Fergus exclaimed. "You want that potion clinic thingy. Yeah, me sister's always taking her brats there to dose 'em up on some potion or another. Reckons it'll stop 'em getting Dragon Pox and Funnel Fever. I mean it's not like either of them killed us when we were little tackers."

"Yes," Harry said hastily. "Dragon Pox, that's it. He's getting the potion for Dragon Pox."

"Second floor, dear," the blonde witch said. "Healer Pye's been making inoculations like Muggles have and he's got a clinic up there, last Friday of every month. Just take the stairs and then turn left at the purple door and straight on to the red door."

"Thanks," Harry said faintly, edging out of the line.

"So you should be!" called the second head as Harry scurried away to the stairs.

By following the blonde witch's directions Harry soon came to the red door. He pushed it open to find a room crammed full of harried looking witches clutching squirming children on their laps while faint screaming echoed from a corridor to his right. Andromeda was sitting stiffly on a straight-backed wire chair. Teddy was sitting in her lap, chewing on the stuffed dragon Harry had brought him on his last visit. The young woman next to Andromeda was clasping a small, yellow bundle to her chest and looking nervously at the corridor. She winced when fresh wailing started up.

"Da!" squealed Teddy suddenly. "Da! Ba! Har!" The little boy laughed and clapped his hands together, squirming on his grandmother's lap as his hair turned pitch black. Harry smiled as Teddy wriggled, sliding off Andromeda's lap and straining for the floor. Andromeda looked up and, seeing Harry, let go of Teddy. Quicker than Harry thought was possible, Teddy had crawled to his godfather and began pulling himself up on Harry's trousers.

"Hey, Teddy," Harry said softly as he bent down to scoop the little boy up. "You just keep getting bigger every time I see you!" He blew a raspberry on Teddy's neck and the little boy squealed loudly, clutching at Harry's hair and glasses.

"Da! Da da da!" chanted Teddy, bouncing in Harry's arms. Harry dropped a soft kiss to Teddy's head as he moved over to Andromeda. He had to be careful not to step on any toys or children as he picked his way across the room.

"I'm so glad you could make it," Andromeda said quietly as Harry crouched down, putting Teddy's little feet on the floor and grasping his hands to hold the boy upright.

"No problem," Harry said, gazing around at the cramped waiting room.

"He's getting so big and … he doesn't like these potions," Andromeda said. "Kreacher's helped me with the last couple but Mrs Chumley says the babies have a cold at the moment and I can't call him away from Sirius House."

"He's had these potions before?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Not this one," Andromeda clarified. "He's had some of the other ones but … this one's new. What if he reacts badly to it?"

"That's why I'm here," Harry said. "That's why I'm staying the night."

"Are you willing to hold him down?" Andromeda asked, eyebrow raised.

"For the potion?" Harry asked, smiling as Teddy leaned over and began chewing on his knee. "He's teething again …"

"Yes," Andromeda clarified, "both for holding him down and the teeth."

"My Aunt didn't hold me when she took me for immunisations," Harry said absently, watching Teddy crawl after a ball. "She stuffed my cousin with a cream cake before and after his. I remember watching the nurse chase him around the room with a needle."

"Why on earth would you chase a child with a needle?" Andromeda looked horrified.

"That's how Muggles give them," Harry looked up at her and shrugged, shifting slightly so he was sitting crossed legged on the floor in front of her. "You should have heard Dudley howl."

"Barbaric," Andromeda said firmly, watching Teddy scoot back towards them, one pudgy hand clutching a blue ball.

"My Aunt ended up holding him while he thrashed around," Harry went on, holding a hand out to Teddy. "But then it was my turn and she warned me not to move a muscle. I sat on this plastic orange chair, terrified to move or make a sound. She waited outside – said she didn't have to listen to a brat like me caterwaul. I was far too terrified to move a muscle and I daren't make a sound.

"I think the nurse felt sorry for me. She gave me a lollipop and let me sit in the chair until it was finished. It was a good lollipop … a red one … but I just wanted her to … I wanted her to hold me until it stopped hurting." Teddy reached them then and flicked the ball at Harry who grabbed at it while Teddy clambered into his lap.

"Har!" Teddy squealed, clutching at Harry's shirt. Harry gave Teddy the ball and slid his arms around the little boy.

"It's not a problem to hold him," Harry said quietly. Andromeda remained silent; watching as Teddy shoved the ball under Harry's nose and screeched happily.

One by one the witches stood and carted their children into the room at the end of the corridor. Sometimes this resulted in loud wailing and occasionally a loud bang. Once there was even a puff of pink smoke that wafted into the waiting room. Harry played on the floor with Teddy, building a tower of blocks and investigating a puzzle that kept rearranging itself so that it was impossible to solve. Teddy had crawled back into Harry's lap and was chewing on his dragon when a little girl wandered over and sat down in front of Harry.

She looked as if she was about four years old and had soft, wispy blonde curls tied in with a large red bow that matched the shiny shoes on her feet.

"I've got new shoes," the little girl proclaimed loudly, thrusting one of her feet under Harry's nose. Teddy tried to grab at it and she wrinkled her nose before pulling her foot away.

"Claudia," hissed a blonde woman from across the room.

"Shush, Mummy," said the little girl. "I'm making a new friend."

"They are very pretty shoes," Harry said, trying to hide a smirk.

"Red shoes are the best kind," Claudia said, eyeing her feet carefully. "Have you got any red shoes?"

"Erm, no, sorry," Harry said.

"That's very sad," Claudia said sincerely. She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Are you here to get a yucky potion too?"

"No," Harry bent his head closer to her. "Teddy here is having a potion. I'm just keeping him company." Claudia searched his face carefully.

"You need a potion," she said finally, "to fix up that scar." She jabbed her finger at Harry's forehead and he winced. Claudia was suddenly whisked away.

"So terribly sorry," came the murmured apologies from the blonde woman. Harry smiled slightly and shook his head. He thought he saw the woman peer at him for a moment but then she had turned away, pulling a book out of her bag and handing it to Claudia.

"Do you think it'll ever fade?" Andromeda asked suddenly.

"I hope so," Harry sighed. He could feel the back of his neck getting red as the occupants of the waiting room began shifting nervously and whispering. Claudia suddenly appeared at his side again and thrust the book at him.

"Read," the little girl commanded and collapsed into Harry's lap, narrowly missing Teddy. Her mother hissed at her again but Harry smiled and took out his wand, levitating the book in front of them. He used his wand to turn the pages as he read the simple story about a little girl who had new, red boots. Harry saw Andromeda out the corner of his eye as she held up a hand to Claudia's mother. The shifting and whispering stopped but Harry felt like his every move was being watched by the occupants of the waiting room.

"Thank you," Claudia said when the story was finished. "You're good at reading stories. What's your name?"

"Harry." He whispered it, knowing it confirmed to everyone in the room exactly who he was.

"That's a stupid name," Claudia pronounced. A gasp echoed around the waiting room. Claudia scrambled off Harry's lap and stood in front of him, surveying him thoughtfully. "I'm going to call you … Stan." Harry laughed.

"We can build a tower now, Stan." Claudia tossed her book aside and began stacking blocks diligently. Harry looked up at the blonde witch and shrugged before summoning more blocks. It was a trial to keep Teddy from destroying the elaborate block towers and Harry was extremely glad when Teddy's name was called. Harry scrambled to his feet, scooping Teddy off the floor.

"Bye, Stan!" called Claudia. Harry heard chuckles from the waiting room as he hurried down the corridor.

He recognised the Healer who showed them into the cramped room at the end of the corridor. It was the same Healer who'd tried stitches on Arthur when he'd been bitten by Nagini. The room was filled with an odd assortment of plastic Muggle anatomy models, an array of multi-coloured potions and a few lethal looking needles arranged carefully on the shelves lining the room. A pile of medical files teetered on the edge of a large desk that took up half the room and two plush arm chairs sat in front of it. A side table filled with pink and green potions sat next to the chairs, against the wall.

"Well, this is … Teddy?" said the Healer, reaching out to pinch Teddy's cheek gently. "And who have you brought with you today, young man? Is this your dad?" The Healer – Augustus Pye looked up at Harry and smiled.

"He's my godson," Harry said quietly. The Healer's eyes widened as Harry spoke.

"Merlin's beard …"

"We're here for the twelve-month Dragon Pox," Andromeda said briskly, sitting in one of the armchairs. "I do hope you know what you're doing with this. I'll have you know we didn't mess with all this nonsense when my Dora was a babe."

"It's quite safe, quite safe," Pye said, taking his eyes off Harry and waving him into a seat. "Of course this one tastes a bit stronger than any of the others. Most of my young patients are not a fan but … well it's better than all those nasty green sores isn't it?" He tickled Teddy under the chin as he spoke.

"You're not going to use one of those nasty looking barbarian tools are you?" Andromeda asked, eyeing the needles suspiciously.

The Healer chuckled and busied himself at the side table for a moment before holding up a small bottle of pink potion to the light that hung suspended in the middle of the room and peering through the glass at the contents.

"Yes, yes, this shall do nicely," he muttered. "Now, Mr Potter, if you could just sit young Teddy on your lap there and just trap his arms against his body … we don't need anyone squirming …"

Harry cradled Teddy gently, pinning his two tiny arms under his own, and dropped a kiss on the baby's cheek. Teddy looked up at him and gurgled before blowing a bubble and kicking his little feet against the chair. Harry suddenly felt supremely guilty that he was holding Teddy down for something so unpleasant. He looked up at Andromeda and she smiled gently before nodding and softly grasped Teddy's head, holding it still as Pye uncorked the bottle, letting a cloud of green steam escape with a hiss.

Swifter than Harry thought possible, the Healer had poured the contents into Teddy's mouth. The cloud of green steam swirled about Teddy's head as the little boy squirmed frantically and began to cough and splutter. Harry, unable to hold Teddy still, realised he'd let go of Teddy's arms only when one pudgy hand connected with his glasses and sent them flying. With a final choking and gagging sound Teddy spat out some of the potion all over Harry's robes, some of it landing on his cheek with a splat. The green cloud hovered for a moment before swirling around Harry and suddenly vanished as it split in two and swept up Teddy's nose and then Harry's.

"Oh dear," Augustus Pye said faintly as Harry started sneezing, coughing and spluttering. Teddy was now screaming frantically and Harry felt Andromeda lift Teddy from his lap as he shook his head and screwed up his eyes. Harry opened his mouth to try and get rid of the scent and taste of the steam, making a gagging sound just as his glasses were pressed back into his hand.

"What in Merlin's name is that?" Harry croaked. "It's foul!"

"I say, Mr Potter, have you _had_ Dragon Pox?" the Healer asked him. Harry pushed his glasses back onto his face and scowled. Pye was peering at him oddly.

"I don't know," Harry shrugged, feeling like he wanted to pull his tongue out of his mouth and scrub it. He wasn't at all surprised that Teddy was still screaming. It was only through incredible self-discipline that Harry wasn't throwing a tantrum at the sheer hideousness of that disgusting steam.

"You don't know?" Pye asked faintly, scurrying behind his desk and searching frantically through a sheaf of parchment.

"Well, if I had it during the first fifteen months of my life that were spent in hiding," Harry said irritably, "I wouldn't know it. If it happened after that, my Aunt probably locked me in a cupboard until it went away. I don't know what it looks like, I could have had any one of a million magical diseases as a child and not know it."

"Oh dear," the Healer said again, wringing his hands.

"What on earth is the matter, man?" Andromeda demanded, shifting Teddy in her arms so that he was not screaming in her left ear.

"Well, we've not tested it on people who've not had Dragon Pox," Pye said.

"But you _give_ it to people who've not had Dragon Pox!" Andromeda sounded irate. Harry was working his jaw trying to expel the disgusting taste.

"We give it to _children_ who've not had Dragon Pox," Pye said, wringing his hands again. "Adults have all had Dragon Pox! The steam's never gone anywhere near any of the adults before!"

"Wait," Andromeda held up one hand while Teddy lay squalling, cradled in her other arm. "So what you are saying is that you have absolutely no idea what effect this potion will have on a wizard-born adult who's never had Dragon Pox as a child?"

"Well, to be fair, there aren't any wizards who haven't had it by the time they get to Hogwarts," the Healer whined. "I mean, it's so contagious ..."

"Obviously, you were wrong about that," Andromeda snapped. "Do you expect him to suffer the same mild symptoms as the children you … _inoculate_?"

"I really couldn't say," muttered Pye, glancing at Harry. "Sometimes the effects of live vaccinations on other people are very unpredictable …"

Andromeda made a noise of displeasure and shifted Teddy in her arms, soothing him wordlessly. Harry looked at his ruined robes, the pink potion dripping down his front in large, sticky globules, slowly turning a disgusting shade of greyish-green.

"Can you tell if I've had Dragon Pox?" Harry asked, ineffectively wiping at the potion with the hem of his robes.

"It's very contagious," Pye said nervously. "You get it by contact with others infected by Dragon Pox. Most wizarding children get it before they go to Hogwarts. Muggleborns seem immune. I'm doing some rather fascinating research regarding the similarities between Dragon Pox and Chicken Pox; it really is quite interesting to see exactly how the diseases line up. Did you know-"

"Mr Pye," Andromeda broke in icily. "If you have not had contact with other wizards would you get Dragon Pox before you went to Hogwarts?"

"Well, of course not." The Healer looked affronted that Andromeda did not share his passion for his research.

"And how many cases of Dragon Pox have been reported from Hogwarts?"

"Very few since the great plague of 1875," Pye replied. "Since then it has been rather the fashion to make sure one's children got infected before attending so as not to decimate the school in such a fashion again. I mean that's why I started this research! Don't you think it's ultimately more effective to stop the disease in its tracks? You can still die from Dragon Pox, you know, and yet mothers go around, deliberately sticking their children in contagious homes. And they call my inoculations barbaric-"

"I'm sure this is all quite fascinating," Harry said dryly, "but, as usual, I appear to be an exception to the rule. If this steam stuff never attacked an adult before you have no idea what it will do." He sighed heavily.

"The reactions in children have been quite mild," Pye said. "Bit of mild fever, a slight rash sometimes … one poor little chap turned a faint green but his mother wasn't sure that wasn't the washing potion he'd tipped on himself."

"Is Dragon Pox different for adults?" Harry asked.

"Well … I don't rightly know," Pye said, shifting nervously. "I've not seen a case of adult Dragon Pox at all. Old Healer Fingleman saw a case about forty years ago, said it was nasty – some Malfoy fellow who never made it. I wouldn't like to say what sort of reaction might occur-"

"So, really, you've no idea what could happen?" Andromeda demanded.

The Healer shrugged.

"You'd better hope this doesn't turn out badly," Andromeda hissed, peering at Harry. She turned to Pye, pointing at him threateningly. "I wouldn't want to be in your shoes and have to explain that you … that you … infected Harry Potter with Dragon Pox!"

"Really, I think I'm fine," Harry said. "I just need to clean up."

"Oh, well …" the Healer eyed Harry's robes critically. "They're ruined now – that'll never come out."

Harry rolled his eyes and shrugged his robes off irritably, leaving them in a heap on the chair. He inspected his hands nervously, expecting them to turn green or grow sudden festering boils before he shrugged and reached out to Teddy. The little boy looked at Harry woefully. Teddy's wide eyes were filled with tears, his bottom lip trembling.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered. Teddy reached out and hit at Harry's outstretched hand before he wailed and clutched at his grandmother's shoulder. Harry frowned as Teddy's hair changed from black to a fiery red.

"He'll get over it," Andromeda said softly, squeezing Harry's shoulder as she went past and out the door. "Let's get him home." Harry followed her out, ignoring the mutterings of Augusts Pye as he scratched frantically as the mess of parchment oh his desk.

Teddy's aversion to Harry was short-lived and before long he was happily playing with Harry on the sitting room floor; his hair returned to the black locks he customarily wore around his godfather. Harry wasn't aware, however, that when Andromeda came in to announce tea that she found them both curled up on the hearthrug fast asleep and a green tinge slowly spreading across Harry's cheeks.


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47. Rumour**

Harry sat in bed, annoyed. He wasn't even hiding it anymore. It was a pity no one cared. He thought about trying to plot his escape again but there was probably a permanent sticking charm _and_ an unbreakable charm on the window. If they'd leave him unguarded at night he could sneak out, he knew all the squeaky steps. They'd probably rigged the back door …

Harry sighed heavily – of all the times to have left his Invisibility Cloak in his trunk.

For three days now he'd been a prisoner. For three days he'd been forced to eat soup and be prodded by Augustus Pye and his clipboard. For three days he'd had the slightest fever in the history of the world. For three days he'd had green cheeks. For three days he'd sneezed pathetic little sparks from his nose every three hours.

Apart from that he was perfectly fine.

Harry scowled at his gaoler. Percy, immersed in his book, didn't even react. Harry sighed heavily and Percy turned a page, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"It won't do you any good," Percy remarked, running a finger down the page and stopping near the bottom. He tapped his finger thoughtfully.

"What?" asked Harry belligerently.

"The sighing," Percy remarked idly. "It won't make Mum let you out of bed."

"I'm not sick," Harry grumbled.

"In fact, if you hadn't tried leaving that first day," Percy continued, "she wouldn't have known you were a flight risk-"

"Shut up, Percy," muttered Harry. Percy just shrugged and turned the page.

Harry glared at Percy's bent head for a minute or two before he slumped down and pulled the covers up to his ears. He stayed that way until he heard the door creak open and Percy's chair scrape on the floor.

"Hiya, Harry!" boomed George. Harry grunted.

"He's particularly obnoxious today," Percy commented as he shut his book with a snap and left. George laughed.

"You pink yet?" he asked, plucking at the edge of the blanket and peering at Harry.

"No," Harry said gloomily, "still green."

"Oh, that's too bad," said George cheerily.

"I don't _have_ Dragon Pox," Harry whined.

"We don't know that," George said with a grin.

"You just want to keep me where you can see me," Harry complained. "I feel like a museum exhibit."

"Really?" George said, sitting down and propping his feet on the edge of Harry's bed. "I would have thought you felt like an experiment – what with all the poking and prodding by that Healer guy."

"If I never see Augustus Pye again it will be too soon," Harry ground out.

Andromeda had Flooed Arthur and Molly straight away when she'd found him asleep and _green_ on her sitting room floor. Although Harry had felt fine at the time and had felt fine every moment since then, he had been tucked up in bed at The Burrow and Healer Pye had been summoned imperiously by an irate Molly Weasley.

Pye had been absolutely fascinated by Harry all weekend and he routinely came every two hours to see if Harry had developed any sort of spots, sores or rashes. The development of a very mild fever late on Friday evening had sent Molly into a near panic but it had prompted Pye to suddenly grab Harry's foot and begin inspecting between his toes.

Although he'd woken up on Saturday morning still with the faint green tinge, Harry had deftly crept out of bed and down the stairs only to be bundled back to bed by Molly Weasley who was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. His protests fell on deaf ears when he tried to get out of bed a second time: Molly threatened to tie him to the bed.

"Dragon Pox is very serious, Harry," she'd said, measuring out a disgusting-looking purple potion and thrusting the spoon under his nose. "But because that imbecile has managed to … _infect_ you in an unconventional manner we simply don't know _what _we will be dealing with. It's far too risky to give you the cure. Thank goodness Teddy appears to be fine but this irresponsible Pye man should be strung up!"

"I don't think I have_ actual_ Dragon Pox," Harry said, dodging the spoon. "He did say there were mild side effects." Molly eyed him grimly.

"No offence dear, but you've not seen Dragon Pox before," she said as she angled the spoon into his mouth. "I've seen it _seven_ times. This is just the beginning." She patted him on the cheek, and left the room while Harry gagged and choked on the potion. Someone had been assigned to sit with him ever since.

It had been three whole days of staring at the four walls of his bedroom. Harry had tried to sit by the window at one point but decided the rant George went on when he found him there wasn't worth it. Molly had knitted almost two entire Christmas jumpers in his presence and Percy had read a whole Ministry manual on weights and scales. Arthur kept bringing him pieces of Muggle electronics to tinker with but Harry usually had less idea than Arthur did what they were, and when they'd managed to scorch the ceiling on Sunday morning, Molly had banned her husband from 'over exerting that poor boy' and Harry had instead been forced to endure losing six successive games of chess to Ron.

Ron thought it was highly amusing that his mother had confined Harry to bed. He'd not managed to hide his laughter when he told Ginny that Harry wouldn't be coming to Hogsmeade. Her resulting Bat-Bogey hex had caught not only Ron, but a group of unsuspecting third year Hufflepuffs behind him. Professor Crockwell had given her a week of detentions and forbidden her from leaving the castle to visit Harry. Hermione was busy being both Head Boy and Head Girl and found herself unable to get away, but she'd insisted Ron bring Harry some fruit.

Harry stared glumly at the bowl of wilted grapes and soggy bananas that sat on his bedside table. He hadn't gotten any worse in the past three days and he was bored and missing Ginny dreadfully. If there was one thing Harry was sure of, as he sneezed on cue, he didn't have Dragon Pox. Ron had told him of his own experience and how miserable he'd been.

"I had crusty purple spots within hours," Ron had said with relish as he took Harry's Queen with one of his pawns. "When I sneezed I nearly set my bedroom on fire!" Harry watched his own pathetic sneezing sparks drift harmlessly towards the bedspread, fizzing out before they landed with a woeful _pffft_.

Harry watched George lean back in the chair, whistling and studying the ceiling.

"You know I think there's another scorch mark up there," mused George. Harry looked up at the mix of scorch marks, burns and potion stains on the ceiling of the twins' old bedroom.

"Yeah, your dad and I blew up a transistor radio yesterday," Harry said.

"Oh, so that's why he's not allowed up here," George said, grinning.

"You've got to spring me, George!" Harry said suddenly.

"And suffer both the wrath of my mother _and _my wife?" George asked, eyebrow raised. "No way."

"But I haven't even got Dragon Pox," Harry whined. George eyed him with amusement.

"Angie's gone very domestic all of a sudden," he said with a smirk. "You're a good outlet for all her sudden domesticity."

"No offence, mate," Harry said grumpily, "but Angelina makes the worst soup _ever_."

"That's what makes you a good outlet," George said. "Otherwise _I'd_ have to eat it all." Harry glared at him but George just laughed.

"I'm bored," Harry sighed. "I can't believe you won't let me go. I'm not sick."

"You could be. Besides, you are not going to deprive Mum of this priceless opportunity to _fuss_," George said. "Anyway, I would have thought you'd be happy to stay in seclusion after the_ Daily Prophet_ today."

"Well, I'm not allowed to _read_ the paper, am I?" Harry scowled. "I might get over excited."

"Really?" George asked, leaning forward, his feet hitting the floor with a thump. "Oh, you have got to read this!" George bounded out of his seat and practically ran to the door. He threw it open and pointed his wand down the stairs shouting, "_Accio Daily Prophet_!"

The newspaper came sailing into the room and George caught it with a triumphant smirk and flourished it at Harry.

"I love how you can still make the front page," George said. "Here, let me read it to you. The Headline says _Potter, Perfect Playmate!_"

"It says _what_?"

"_Harry Potter was spotted at St Mungo's late on Friday afternoon_," George read. "_Well known for his defeat of You-Know-Who, not once but twice in his short life, Mr Potter normally attends Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to obtain his N.E.W.T.S. But it seems he has a few responsibilities that keep him away from that hallowed institution on occasion_."

"Still can't say Voldemort, can they?" Harry grumbled. George ignored him.

"_Seen in both the foyer and at the children's inoculation clinic, Harry Potter appeared to be discharging godfatherly duties. Mr Lester Scrogg and Miss Cynthia Button confirm that they spoke to Mr Potter in the foyer of St Mungo's where they were waiting in to be seen for minor spell damage._

'_Ever so polite, he was,' Miss Button confirmed, 'wanted to know where to find the kiddies getting those potions.'_

'_Not because he has a kiddie of his own,' Mr Scrogg confirmed, 'got a godson, he has.'_

'_It was very exciting,' Miss Button added, 'seeing a hero like Harry Potter in the flesh. I was ever so nervous and me second head did like to insult him; so very embarrassing.'_

_While Mr Potter did indeed attend the children's inoculation clinic our sources have revealed that Healer Augustus Pye has since spent a considerable amount of his time visiting Mr Potter and speculation is rife that our young hero is not well._

'_He seemed perfectly fine,' Mrs Penelope Westbourne says of Mr Potter. 'He did a marvellous job of keeping my Claudia amused at the clinic and he didn't look unwell. He did look a bit flustered when they finished but the little boy – his godson – was screaming his head off, so I'm not surprised.'_

_Nevertheless Mr Potter has not been seen since this visit to St Mungo's, Professor Crockwell at Hogwarts confirming that Mr Potter has not yet returned to school. _

'_Most inconvenient,' was the only further comment she deigned to offer._

_This publication has sought confirmation from Mr Ronald Weasley, well known for his association with Mr Potter. Mr Weasley however, was unable or unwilling to confirm anything. When confronted yesterday, Mr Weasley repeated words we are unable to print. One may conclude that Mr Weasley has infected Mr Potter with the same affliction to which he succumbed last year at the onset of the school year. It is rumoured that Harry Potter is sequestered in a private facility undergoing treatment for Spattergroit. His return to public life could be long and arduous and we at the Daily Prophet will keep you appraised as news comes to hand_."

"How would I get Spattergroit from Ron when he had it eighteen months ago?" Harry asked, incredulous.

"Oh that's not the best bit," George said smirking. "There's a little side story and a darling picture. _Could Harry Potter be the catch of the century? He's handsome; he's handy with a wand; he's good with children. Is there nothing Harry Potter cannot do? This candid photograph of Mr Potter was captured at St Mungo's on Friday with Mr Potter's new leading lady, one Miss Claudia Westbourne who charmed the robes off Mr Potter with her demure smile and her forthright nature. _

'_He was so sweet with her,' remarked the unnamed source from which we procured this exclusive image. 'If I wasn't a married woman, I'd snap him up meself!'_

_While we don't know the current status of The Boy Who Lived ladies, we'll make it our mission to find out! We don't want to let this catch slip away!_"

Harry stared at George in horror. He watched as George flipped the paper around to show a picture of him and Claudia building a block tower while Teddy sat in Harry's lap. The heading above the inset picture read _Tiny Tots Steal Potter's Heart_.

"When did it become a secret that I'm going out with Ginny?" Harry asked, slowly reaching for the paper and re-reading the article.

"Not sure," George said, "but Kingsley agreed to re-route all your mail to the Auror Office when a Singing StrippaOwl arrived this morning."

"A what?" asked Harry blankly.

"Singing StrippaOwl," George repeated. "You can get them from those disreputable places down in Knockturn Alley; the ones that sell naughty wizard magazines and questionable potions."

"What exactly does a Singing StrippaOwl _do_?" asked Harry, not at all sure he wanted to know.

"It sings to you," George said with a wicked grin. "But the part that everyone buys it for is so you can put own your photo in it. There's this potion and you paint it on your photo so that when the recipient opens it, your little photo starts taking its clothes off."

"I'm disturbed that you know how to use them."

"Oh, I've never sent one," George said, shaking his head. "We dared Lee to go buy one once and the git _sent_ it to us."

"So all my post is going to the Ministry now?"

"Yeah, Kingsley said he'd forward the important stuff to you."

Harry looked again at the picture in the newspaper. He sighed heavily and wondered if there would ever be a time when he could anticipate truthful reporting.

It was another twenty-four hours before Molly Weasley lost her fight to nurse Harry's non-existent Dragon Pox. Growing more bored and irritated by the minute, Harry had contemplated pulling his wand on George and escaping out of the bathroom window, praying his cushioning spell would work when Augustus Pye, sighing heavily, had pronounced Harry fit and well just before tea time on Tuesday.

"A most curious reaction," he had said when pressed for further comment. "None of the other reactions have ever included the sneezing."

"Are you sure he doesn't have Dragon Pox?" Molly asked suspiciously. "_He's still green_."

"Quite sure, quite sure," Pye said, nodding furiously, "just a mild reaction to the inoculation."

"So, I can _go now_?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Yes, yes," Pye muttered absently, scribbling on his clipboard. "Don't drink any Gourdyroot tea; we don't know if that will react to the potion."

"When will he stop being green?" Molly asked with a frown. Augustus Pye shrugged.

Harry didn't particularly care what colour he was, he scrambled out of bed and began hunting for a clean set of clothes.

"Is he immune now?" Molly demanded. The Healer shrugged again. Molly huffed at him.

"I'm going to get dressed now," Harry said slowly. "I would appreciate some privacy."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear," Molly said, smiling at him. "Try the red jumper, your skin is going to clash with that blue."

"I'll look like a ruddy Christmas decoration," Harry muttered as she and Pye left the room.

He dressed quickly and gathered together his things for the journey back to Hogwarts. Ruefully he glanced at himself in the mirror; his green cheeks made him look like an alien from one of Dudley's horror films. Harry pulled his socks and shoes on before heading down the stairs and into the kitchen where Molly was complaining about Augustus Pye.

"It was bad enough when he tried those ridiculous stitches on you," she said to Arthur as she waved her wand at the cauldron on the stove, "but to go experimenting on babies! Really, there's a perfectly good cure for Dragon Pox, it's ridiculous Muggle rubbish!"

"Now, Molly," said Arthur with a frown. "Muggles are perfectly capable in their own way – very ingenious actually."

"Inoculations, I ask you," Molly said, throwing her hands into the air. "Would you be so accepting if he'd made Harry really ill? I'm still not at all sure he should be going back to Hogwarts."

"Now, now, dearest," Arthur said smoothly, "you know as well as I do that getting back to Ginny will be the best medicine."

"Yes, I can guess what _medicine_ she'll give him …" Molly trailed off as Arthur coughed violently; waving at the doorway Harry was standing in. Harry felt his face heat spectacularly and wondered what if he was still green or if his blush had managed to turn his face red.

"I won't stay for tea," Harry forced out. "Thanks, really … I'll just …"

"Minerva said to use the Floo," Arthur said gently. "Just pop into the common room – she organised for a tray to be left there for you."

"Now, you come straight home if you get worse," Molly said as she stepped over to him and felt his forehead. "I still don't trust that Healer."

"I'm fine, really," Harry said. "Thanks for everything but I really need to get back and … sort some things out." He sighed heavily, thinking of the article in _The Daily Prophet_. Somehow he needed to establish that not only was he _unavailable_ he had to convince the world he didn't have Spattergroit.

"Take care, Harry," said Arthur as Harry scooped up the Floo Powder and spun away in the green flames.

Harry cursed as he stumbled out of the fireplace in the common room. There were days when he preferred Portkeys to using the Floo, and that was saying something, given his loathing of Portkeys. Harry threw his bag on the hearthrug and sank into his favourite armchair in the deserted common room. A plate and goblet were sitting on a nearby side table and Harry summoned them over to him. The plate landed deftly in his hands but he dropped the goblet half way to him. Shrugging, Harry summoned it again and filled it with an _Augamenti _spell, smirking at his own spellwork.

Harry made short work of the plate of food, relishing the chance to eat something more appetising than Angelina's soup. He stared idly at the plate, wondering what to do with it. If he left it, a house elf would have to come and collect it – was it worth Hermione's ire? He could take it down to the kitchens himself, which would mean running into every curious pair of eyes in the school on his way back. Harry smacked himself on the forehead before leaping up and darting up the stairs to rummage in his trunk for his Invisibility Cloak.

Gathering up the plate, goblet and cutlery, Harry left the common room and started down to the kitchens. As he got to the lower floors of the castle he saw a few scattered students wandering back to their common rooms, the library or various clubs meetings.

"D'you think it's true?" he heard a girl on the second floor landing ask her companions. Harry recognised the group as Eve, Louise and Marie, the three first years who lived at Sirius House. Harry slowed down, curious, because he didn't often see them together at Hogwarts. Eve was a shy little thing was rarely seen with anyone but her brother Matthew, and he was a Hufflepuff so hardly ever then. Louise and Marie had formed a sort of camaraderie but they'd never appeared particularly close. It was Louise who had asked the question. Eve didn't answer her, she continued shuffling along, looking at the floor.

"Well, it makes sense," Marie said thoughtfully. Harry trailed after them even though they were leading him away from the kitchens.

"How does it make sense?" Louise scoffed. "Just because he's got some musty old house-"

"Exactly," Marie said. "If you had a big old house, wouldn't you want to _live_ in it?"

"But … _we_ live there," Eve said suddenly, her small voice barely audible.

"Yeah, for now," Marie said darkly.

"Why would he go to all that trouble to set it up if he was just going to throw us out?" Louise demanded.

"Did you really think it was more than one holiday?" Marie asked scornfully.

"It better be," Louise said. "I left my favourite jumper there."

"I never stayed more than six weeks in any place last year," Marie said harshly, stopping outside an empty classroom. "There isn't anybody who wants to keep kids like us."

"But it said he _likes_ kids," Eve's voice trembled, echoing throughout the empty corridor.

"I bet you anything we'll be stuck here at Easter," Marie said savagely.

"What about the babies?"Louise said, folding her arms across her chest and looking smug. "Mrs Chumley said they had paperworks."

"Well … they're _babies_," Marie said with an eye roll. "Everybody likes babies."

"I wish somebody liked us," Eve said in her small voice, shuffling her feet.

"Well, get used to it," Marie turned on the little Ravenclaw harshly. "He's going to get _married_ and then he'll want his house back and we'll have nowhere to go. Again."

Harry had heard enough and grabbed Marie and Eve by the elbow, hauling them into the empty classroom, forgetting entirely that he still had his Invisibility Cloak on. The two girls screamed and Louise launched herself after them.

"Damn," Harry swore, letting the girls go and yanking the Cloak off. The three girls were staring at him, wide-eyed. "Sorry, I forgot I was invisible."

"You've got an Invisibility Cloak," Louise said with awe. Harry nodded, running his free hand through his hair awkwardly.

"Listen, what you were talking about-"

"Were you listening?" Marie asked, eyes narrowed.

"Yes," Harry answered her baldly. "What on earth have you been hearing that makes you think I … want Sirius House back because I'm getting _married_?"

"It's all over the _Prophet_," Louise said matter-of-factly.

"Mavis Tavistock said you were going to get married because you're all clucky," Marie said.

"And Johnny Garber said that when people get married they need a new house," Eve added.

"But you've already got a house," Louise chimed in.

"See," Marie said triumphantly, "I told you he'd need it back."

"Who is Mavis Tavistock?" Harry asked faintly.

"She's in third year," Louise said.

"Ravenclaw," Eve added.

"She's pretty smart," Marie said. "She _doesn't_ get things wrong." Harry rubbed his forehead tiredly.

"Can you start at the beginning?" he pleaded.

"You're green," Marie said bluntly. Harry glared at her. She only shrugged in return.

"Well it all started on Saturday," Louise began. "Filch was checking everyone going to Hogsmeade – I was watching from the staircase because I like to see who's going with who and what the girls are wearing. Hermione Granger was helping him but it didn't look like he appreciated her help. Then Professor Crockwell came out and she looked like she was going to Hogsmeade, too, but she never ended up going because that's when Ron Weasley came."

"I like Ron," Eve said dreamily.

"He kissed Hermione," Marie giggled. Louise rolled her eyes.

"I hope someone kisses me like that one day," Eve said. Marie jabbed her in the ribs and the little Ravenclaw looked up at Harry and blushed tomato red. Harry turned to Louise, considerately pretending he hadn't seen Eve's embarrassment.

"Anyway," Louise said in a long suffering tone. "That Neville guy came to say hello, right, and Ginny Weasley was with him."

"Neville wasn't going, was he?" Marie asked.

"I don't know," Louise said. "That's not exactly important here." She glared at the other girl.

"Ron told Ginny you were sick," Eve supplied. "He was laughing. I don't think Ginny thought it was very funny."

"Professor Crockwell definitely didn't," Marie added. "Not when all those Hufflepuffs started shrieking."

"They had these big green bat things!" Eve exclaimed.

"Tristan Snodgrass sneezed all over Professor Crockwell," Louise said seriously. "It was disgusting."

"She was really cross though," Eve said. "She made Ginny stay and clean the trophy room."

"She got crosser at Ron," Louise argued. "She yelled at him because you weren't going to be at Hogsmeade."

"We all thought Ron was just joking – to annoy Ginny," Marie explained. "But then you didn't come for tea either and I think it was after Ginny got the letter and set fire to Gerald's roast beef that Professor Crockwell said she had to have detention every day for a week."

"Ginny got really cross," Eve added in an almost whisper.

"She's been unbearable since," Louise confirmed.

"Mavis said she heard from her cousin Felicity that Tim Westbrook told her that Bridie Woods knows it was because you dumped her and weren't coming back because you were going to get married to that drummer from The Lone Witches," Louise said, all in one breath.

"Why else would Ginny be so cross," Marie asked rationally. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"And when was it that you decided that this meant I was going to throw you out?"

"Well, I didn't think it would," Louise said, shifting nervously. "But Mavis reckons that the article in the _Prophet_ was just so people wouldn't be shocked when you announced your engagement."

"And Phyllis White said we wouldn't have anywhere to go when you moved back into your house and started filling it up with all the babies," Eve said quietly.

"What babies?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Yours," Louise said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry was beginning to regret asking them to start at the beginning.

"Look," Marie said suddenly. "Can you just tell us straight whether or not we need to sign up for the Easter holidays?"

"No," Harry said quietly. "You'll be going _home_ for the holidays." The girls watched him warily.

"Are the babies going to be there?" Eve asked. Harry nodded. Eve took a deep breath. "Mrs Chumley?" Harry nodded again.

"Can I sleep in the same bed?" Marie bit her lip. Harry nodded.

"That's _your_ bed," he said. "It's _your_ home. No one's going to throw you out."

"But … we haven't got paperworks," Louise said, "not like the babies."

"You do, actually," Harry said. "It should be finalised by summer. It says that you live at Sirius House and that Mr Weasley and Mrs Chumley and Mrs Tonks and I will make sure you've all got enough food and enough clothes and will go to school every year. That way everyone knows where you belong."

"I like Mrs Chumley," said Eve.

"No one's throwing you out," Harry repeated again. "You don't have to go anywhere."

"But are you marrying that drummer from The Lone Witches?"

"No!"

"Well, I don't know why Ginny's so upset then," Louise said, shrugging.

"Probably the Spattergroit," Marie said. "What is Spattergroit?"

"I haven't got Spattergroit," sighed Harry, "just like I'm not marrying the drummer from The Lone Witches."

"So why are you green?" Eve asked. "I think … you're getting greener …" At that moment Harry sneezed. The pathetic little sparks puffed out of his nose and fizzed only inches from his lips.

"Never mind," Harry sighed. He threw the Invisibility Cloak around his shoulders and looked directly at Marie. "You're going home for Easter, and every holiday after that." Marie nodded meekly and Eve beamed at him.

"Thank you," the little Ravenclaw said.

"No problem," Harry said. "I need to go sort a few more things out – obviously. Next time, come and ask me, don't listen to Mavis, all right?" The three girls nodded.

"You should go find Ginny," Louise said with a smirk. "I heard she's going to eviscerate you."

"What's eviscerate?" Marie asked. Harry shook his head as he pulled the Cloak over it and left for the kitchens.

Harry dodged students who were now streaming out of the Great Hall and swarming around the Great Staircase to get back to the kitchens. He snuck inside, narrowly missing discovery by a group of Hufflepuffs when he stuck his hand out to tickle the pear. He took his Cloak off and stood uncertainly in the doorway trying to figure out what to do with his used kitchen utensils and was immediately bowled over by a small flying figure who wrapped itself around his knees, wailing.

"Harry Potter mustn't be dying!" squeaked a house elf pitifully. It was Winky, dressed in a filthy tea towel, tears trailing down her cheeks and dripping off the end of her nose.

"I'm not dying," said Harry gently, trying to pry the little house elf from his person. "I'm fine."

"The newspapers-"

"Exaggerate a lot," Harry said, crouching down to look the little elf in the eye.

"You is green," Winky said, sniffing.

"I know," Harry lamented. "I don't know when I'll stop being green."

"You has Dragon Pox?"

"No!" protested Harry.

"You is green," Winky said firmly. "You has Dragon Pox." Suddenly the little elf winked out of existence. Harry stared blankly at where she had been before he shrugged and put his used crockery on a table and turned to leave. He got no further than a few steps before Winky popped back into existence in front of him.

"Harry Potter has Dragon Pox and is going to the hospital wing," Winky said, grasping Harry's leg. With a sickening lurch, Harry found himself in the middle of the hospital wing.

"Winky!" The little elf winked out of existence before he could say anything else.

"Mr Potter!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, looking startled, her hand at her throat. "What _are_ you doing here?"

"I don't know," Harry said irritably.

"I say, Mr Potter, are you … _green_?"

"It's just my cheeks-"

"I thought you had Spattergroit," the Matron fussed as she bustled over and peered up at him. She reached up and grasped his chin, turning his face sideways to inspect him before she harrumphed emphatically.

"I don't _have_ Spattergroit!" Harry said in sheer frustration. "I don't have anything!"

"Molly did say you were indisposed …" Madam Pomfrey reached up and pulled his head down inspecting the top of his head. Harry wriggled out of her grasp but she pierced him with a steely look and pointed to a chair imperiously. Harry sighed heavily and sat down.

"I'm fine."

"People who are _fine_, Potter, are not _green_."

"Look, it's just-" Harry's words died in a strangled gurgling sound as Madam Pomfrey poured a thick grey-green potion down his throat unexpectedly. Harry glared at her.

"It's clearly Dragon Pox," Madam Pomfrey said, "and I don't need you infecting the rest of the students."

"But … Pye said that everyone's _had_ Dragon Pox by the time they get to Hogwarts," Harry said sticking his tongue out and trying to will the disgusting taste from it.

"Pye?" Madam Pomfrey inquired. She turned and glared at Harry. "That … charlatan!"

"What did you just give me?" Harry asked, giving up on trying to expel the taste of the potion with thin air and scrubbing at his tongue with the end of his jumper sleeve.

"Dragon Pox cure," the Matron said briskly.

"But – but Pye said he couldn't give me that because he didn't know how it would react to the inoculation-"

"Inoculation?" Madam Pomfrey asked in a very disapproving tone. She eyed Harry grimly. "That man is a menace to good wizarding medicine. Why would he inoculate you-"

"He didn't," Harry said. "I got caught in Teddy's … erm … steam."

"Well," Madam Pomfrey said briskly. "It seems to have worked. Your forehead is green now."

"But that means it's spreading!" Harry said in horror. "They _said_ they couldn't give me the cure-"

"Oh, they did, did they?" Madam Pomfrey sniffed and summoned a pair of hospital pyjamas. "The green should spread before it is cured so, clearly the cure was what you needed. You'll be fine in the morning, Potter. Now get into bed. You'll be spending the night here."

"But-"

"Don't argue with me, Mr Potter," Madam Pomfrey said with a stern frown. "I will not hesitate to get Molly Weasley down here." She indicated a bed near the door and turned and swept away into her office.

Harry glared at the pyjamas and savagely kicked off his shoes. He knew that not only would Madam Pomfrey make good on her threat to call Molly, but she'd find something evil-tasting to force feed him again if he tried to leave. He pulled the curtain around the bed with a sharp tug and smiled satisfactorily when the curtain ripped a little. He'd change into the stupid pyjamas and he'd get into the bed and then ... when that prison warden they called a Matron went to bed he'd sneak out and go find Ginny.

Harry pulled the pyjamas on viciously and stomped over to the bed. There wasn't even anyone in here to talk to. He pulled out the drawers of the bedside table irritably, looking for something to do. Nothing. No left behind sweets, no Quidditch magazines, not even a manky old History of Magic textbook. Harry sighed heavily and climbed into the bed. He might as well make this look good.

Madam Pomfrey came past only moments later, snuffed out the torches and left Harry Potter sleeping soundly in the Hospital Wing.

* * *

Harry could hear whispering and he pulled his covers higher over his ears to block it out.

It didn't work.

"D'you think he's contagious?"

"It doesn't look like Spattergroit …"

"It's probably the Blibbering Humdingers."

"He wasn't purple yesterday …"

Harry pushed the covers away from his face and cracked his eyes open to find Ron staring at him avidly.

"What are you doing here?" Harry grumbled, straightening his glasses that were twisted and squashed into his left eyebrow. "It's Wednesday."

"Did you know that you're purple, mate?"

"I'm what?" Harry looked at Ron blankly.

"Purple," Ron said seriously. "Your face. Is purple."

"It's green," Harry said stupidly. Ron shook his head solemnly and Harry swore.

"Harry?" Ginny's voice was timid. Harry looked up to find her standing at the foot of his bed, chewing on her lip and looking paler than he'd ever seen her. The sun was streaming through the windows of the hospital wing and Harry suddenly realised he'd fallen asleep and been there all night.

"I look worse than I feel," Harry attempted to reassure her. He sat up and Ginny just clambered up onto the bed and crawled into his lap.

"I've missed you," she whispered into his neck as he wound his arms around her and pulled her close.

"Harry, you don't know how bad you look," Luna said serenely as she conjured an ornate hand-mirror and handed it to him. Harry took the mirror hesitantly. He glanced once at Hermione, who was wringing her hands, before peering into the mirror.

"The problem is," Neville began, "purple's not really your colour and it sort of … clashes with your eyes …"

"Yes," Harry said dryly as he gazed into the mirror. "That's my biggest problem – a fashion disaster!"

His face was a sort of mauve colour, the kind of shade usually reserved for the dainty embroidered initials on the handkerchiefs Aunt Petunia used to buy for Dudley to give Aunt Marge for Christmas. Ginny snuggled closer to him and Harry felt her warm fingers slide between the buttons of his pyjama top and caress his chest.

"Dragon Pox isn't supposed to make you go purple is it?"

Ron shook his head solemnly. Hermione opened her mouth but Harry cut her off – not wanting to listen to an entire thesis on Dragon Pox side effects.

"Not that I don't appreciate the visit, but why are you all here?" Harry sneezed violently and a lone spark landed with a pathetic fizzle on the bedspread.

"Madam Pomfrey said we could come in with Ron before classes," Neville said. "We'll have to get going soon. Last thing we need is end up late for Potions and then come out of Potions late and be late for Muggle Studies and have Crockwell do her nut and-"

"Has Pomfrey seen me?" Harry asked suddenly. "Does she know I'm purple?"

"No," Ginny said slowly. "She said you were sleeping so she didn't disturb you. She thought you'd be back to … normal." Ginny touched his cheek tentatively.

"Well, I'm not!" Harry said peevishly. "She gave me the Dragon Pox cure last night. It's probably reacted with the stupid inoculation and now … I look like a bloody old lady's hanky!"

"Speaking of old lady's hankies …" Neville said, shifting from one foot to the other in agitation.

"Why've you suddenly got the willies over Crockwell?" Ginny asked, nudging Neville with her toe.

"She has been an absolute bear all weekend!" Neville cried. "Something has crawled up her nose and died!"

"Neville!" Hermione exclaimed, screwing up her face. "That's disgusting!"

"Hey, at least he didn't say it crawled up her bu-"

"Ron!"

"She's normally so …" Hermione trailed off and shrugged.

"Like Umbridge without the evil?" Ginny said sarcastically. Neville shivered.

"Serene," Hermione said, looking sternly at Ginny. Ginny just shrugged and laid her head on Harry's shoulder. Harry wished the rest of them would all go away and leave him and Ginny alone.

"How did you end up in here anyway?" Ron asked. "Dad said you Flooed into the common room." Harry sighed and recounted his trip to the kitchens.

"And then Winky made me come here!"

"And Harry Potter, defeater of the Dark Lord and two time survivor of the Killing Curse, is unable to dodge an old lady with a medicine bottle," Ron smirked. Harry tossed a pillow at his head.

"We really need to go," Neville whined.

"The dirigerbils might trap us on the way if we don't go soon."

"No," Neville said impatiently, "they won't. Professor Crockwell will make us polish things again – without magic!"

"I think you are being a little irrational, Neville," Hermione said. She picked up her book bag nonetheless.

"Well," Neville said, crossing his arms. "It wasn't you she stalked in Hogsmeade was it?"

"She stalked you?" Harry asked sceptically.

"Don't be daft," Ron said. "Just because we saw her in The Three Broomsticks and Madam Puddifoots and Schrivenshafts-"

"What were you doing in Madam Puddifoots?" Harry broke in, amused.

"_We_ weren't!" Hermione said in horror. "We were merely walking past to get to that new flower shop."

"She was in there with some odd-looking bloke," Ron said, throwing himself into the chair by Harry's bed.

"I like how she's off having a nice cup of tea with some … beau, while I slave away doing her detention," Ginny grumbled.

"Beau?" Harry asked with a grin. Ginny swatted his arm.

"Can we go now?" Neville whined.

"Oh, fine," Ginny sighed. She pressed a lingering kiss to Harry's lips and slid off his lap. "Let's go get this out of the way …"

"See you, Harry," Neville called as he grabbed Luna and Ginny by their sleeves and pulled them out of the hospital wing. Hermione followed swiftly and the door swung shut behind them with a soft thump.

"So," Ron said, propping his feet on the end of Harry's bed, "what d'you think your chances are of getting out of here when Pomfrey discovers you are purple?"

Harry threw his remaining pillow at Ron's head.

* * *

There was only one thing worse than being trapped in bed at The Burrow by Molly Weasley, and that was being trapped in bed in the hospital wing by Madam Pomfrey. She'd allowed Ron to stay and keep him company, without which, Harry thought he might just have gone mad.

Of course being beaten in six straight chess games by Ron wasn't exactly fun; Harry was unable to talk the chess pieces into playing checkers. Both black and white walked off the board rather than play a game so far beneath them. Ron went and got some Exploding Snap cards then and they'd played that happily until Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot arrived in the hospital wing having been bitten by a semi-carnivorous plant during Herbology.

Harry briefly contemplated trying to sneak out while Madam Pomfrey was staunching the flow of Terry Boot's blood. Unfortunately Anthony Goldstein, who was nursing an icepack on his head where the plant had gotten him back, reminded Madam Pomfrey that Harry was still there.

"Oi, Potter, rumour had it you were green with yellow Spattergroit spots?" Anthony called across the hospital wing. "When did you turn purple?"

"Spattergroit spots are purple – ow!" Terry said as Madam Pomfrey pulled on his arm as she fixed Harry with a glare.

"Don't even think about it, Mr Potter."

"Is it just me, or is she more particular this year?" Ron asked in a low voice after the Matron had left.

"She's more particular," Terry said glumly from his bed.

"She doesn't like to lose students," Anthony added, looking absurd in his turban of bandages.

"Lose 'em?" Harry grunted. "How can she lose anyone when she practically chains 'em to a bed?"

"Last year," Terry said gruffly, "she lost students." He was silent after that and Harry just stared at him.

"How do you lose students?" Ron asked, tipping himself back in his chair and idly staring at the ceiling.

"It's easy, Weasley," Anthony said harshly. "When they _die_, you've _lost_ them."

Ron's chair thumped to the floor, echoing throughout the silent room.

"Die?" he repeated stupidly.

"Yes," Terry answered quietly. "Duncan Blatchford died just before Christmas last year because no one was allowed to bring him to the hospital wing. She couldn't save him by the time Ernie snuck him up here."

"They started kicking us out," Anthony added. "That Amycus sent Meredith Cornwell back to class with a nosebleed. It's lucky someone had a purple Nosebleed Nougat in their pocket."

"I don't know how Fred and George got 'em in to us," Terry said, shifting in his bed until he'd loosened the covers. "But I reckon Ginny must've said something because it was like there was a never ending supply of 'em – not the orange ones, just the purple. Dead useful they were for stopping all sorts of bleeding."

"The only patients Pomfrey ever had by the end of last year were Slytherins," Anthony continued. "She knew the rest of us were hurting because we'd sneak in and steal supplies. She knew we were doing it and she started leaving the cabinets unlocked and extra bandages out."

"And blood replenishing potion," Terry chimed in. "Dunno where she was getting it though. Slughorn used to slip us all sorts of potions because the Carrows wouldn't let him stock the hospital wing."

"I still say it was Snape," Anthony mused. "That blood replenishing was top notch."

"Probably," murmured Harry.

"So, Potter, why are you purple?"

* * *

"I thought she'd never let them go," Ron whispered, staring after Madam Pomfrey as she swished back into her office after lecturing Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot about 'playing with magical plant life' and shooing them out the door.

"We should wait," Ron said thoughtfully. "There's still a lot of students about. We should wait until they are all safely out of the way, it'll give Pomfrey a chance to get tucked up in bed too."

"You really should stay here, Harry-"

"Oh, rubbish, Hermione," Ron hissed. "He's not sick, he hasn't been all week. He's just surrounded by fussing women!"

"Ron!" Hermione glared at him. "I am _not_ fussing! It's not _normal_ for a person to be _purple_."

"I don't know why everyone's so bent out of shape over it," Ron shrugged. "Harry's not normal."

"Shove off," Harry muttered as he scrambled out of the bed.

"Shhhhh!"

"Hermione, _you_ shush," Harry grumbled, searching for his clothes. "I am sick of being stuck in bloody bed and if I don't get out of here I am going to go stark, staring mad!" He pulled his pyjama top over his head and picked up his shirt. He grimaced at the purple flush spreading down his chest.

"Oi!" Ron said lazily. "Stop disrobing in front of my woman." He grinned as Hermione turned on him, unleashing a verbal assault of angry words about respect. Ron winked at Harry who mouthed 'thank you' in return and finished dressing behind Hermione's back.

"And lastly, I would have though _your mother_ would have instilled in you _some_ modicum of respect! Ron Weasley, I am asha-"

"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall's voice cut through her tirade. "A word, if I may?"

Harry froze, his Invisibility Cloak in hand, and attempted to look completely innocent. He failed. Professor McGonagall raised one eyebrow at him and looked pointedly at Ron.

"Professor!" Hermione exclaimed. "I … we … well, er …"

"That will do, Miss Granger," the professor interrupted gently. "As nostalgic as it makes me feel to see you three plotting mischief and an after curfew tour through the castle, I am afraid I have a rather urgent message."

It was then that Harry noticed the Headmistress looked worried, her forehead creased and brows drawn together.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"If you will come with me," Professor McGonagall said smoothly. "Miss Weasley is waiting for us in my office-"

"I'm not going all the way up there before you tell us why you look like you have bad news," Ron said bluntly.

"I need you to come to my office, Mr Weasley, because that is where the Portkey is," Professor McGonagall said, fixing Ron with a piercing stare.

"Portkey?" Ron asked blankly. "What's happened?" His face changed rapidly from confused to furious.

"You are needed at home," the Headmistress said. "Miss Granger, Mr Potter – you too, there is a family emergency." She turned and swept towards the doors to the hospital wing.

"A what?" Ron called. "What does that mean?" He ran after the Headmistress and Harry scrambled to gather his cloak and shove his feet into his shoes. Hermione picked up her book bag and trotted after Ron, leaving Harry to hop awkwardly on his left foot as he tried to pull the heel of his trainer on his other.

Professor McGonagall did not turn as she walked purposefully down the corridors to her office. She gave the password to the gargoyles guarding the entrance, _'Knitting Patterns', _and stepped onto the spiral staircase.

"Come along," she said as she rode up and turned out of sight. Harry, Ron and Hermione hastily scrambled onto the stone steps and then practically jumped off at the top and hurled themselves through the doorway into the circular office.

Ginny was sitting in one of the cushy armchairs in front of McGonagall's desk. Her face was thunderous and she was glaring at the wall behind the desk. Harry looked up and saw Dumbledore's portrait, eyes twinkling as he watched her. But it wasn't his portrait Ginny was glaring at.

"I can assure you, Miss Weasley that I did not intend to be here."

The portrait of the sallow-faced, hook-nosed former Potions teacher and Headmaster sneered as it spoke. Snape's portrait was no more endearing than his person had been. He was dressed in his customary black, looking haggard and bat-like as he hovered in the ornate, gilt frame. There was a red armchair in the corner of the portrait but Severus Snape stood ramrod straight in the middle of the painting.

"I don't care about what you supposedly did," Ginny spat. "You still let them in here! You still let them-"

"Miss Weasley, that is enough," Professor McGonagall cut in, laying a gentle hand on Ginny's arm. "We must have this discussion another day-"

"No!" Ron suddenly burst out. "Let's have it now! I want to hear what the greasy git has to say for himself! Do you know students died here last year, Snape? How can you live with that?"

"Indeed, Mr Weasley," Snape drawled. "In case you have forgotten, I do not _live_ with anything, for I am, in fact, dead."

"Students?" McGonagall interjected. "As far as I was aware there was only one student who died here under Professor Snape's leadership-"

"The Battle wasn't real then?" Ron snapped.

"Technically that was after Professor Snape had left and-"

"Hermione, I don't care!" Ron growled. "It doesn't matter who was actually _here_! As I recall people _died_! My brother died!"

"So the world has one less Weasley brat in it?" Snape sneered. "Something good did come of all this after all, it's a pity it wasn't you."

"Severus-" Professor's McGonagall's shocked remonstration was cut short by Ginny's wordless scream as she jumped out of her chair and levelled her wand at the portrait. Harry leapt forward to hold her back and he wasn't quite sure why because his hands itched to tear the portrait down off the wall and plunge a knife into the smirking, sallow face over and over again.

"Ginny," he murmured in her ear, gripping her tightly. "Don't let him get to you." Ginny whirled on him and snarled like a cat. Harry pulled her closer and kissed the side of her head and she sighed heavily.

"You bastard!" Ron shouted suddenly. "We've been defending you, but you never changed! You're still the slimy, self-serving, loathsome git you've always been."

"Weasley, I am dead," Snape said calmly. "I am not now as I have always been."

"Quite right, Severus, quite right," Dumbledore said, his eyes still twinkling. "One can only remain as one was."

"Well, you've clearly remained as you always were," Snape said, staring viciously towards the painting of Dumbledore. "Still as cryptic as ever. Have you quite finished manipulating things to suit yourself?"

"My dear boy-"

"Don't you 'dear boy' me!"

"Albus!" Professor McGonagall groaned. "If you persist in antagonising Severus in this fashion please do it in the dead of night when I do not have to listen to your petty squabbles."

"I was talking to Harry," Dumbledore said calmly. Snape's portrait scowled. Dumbledore ignored his painted colleague and smiled at Harry. "I hear that you've met Glenda?"

"Yes …" Harry glanced at Snape who was scowling at him. "She said she, er … knew you?"

"Who on earth is Glenda?" McGonagall asked irritably. "We don't have a student called Glenda-"

"Actually there's a third year Ravenclaw who's Christian name is Glenda she just prefers-"

"That will do, Miss Granger."

"Don't these brats have somewhere to be?" Snape interjected snidely.

"No, wait," Harry said. "What can you tell us about Glenda, Professor?"

"She is an uncommonly wise witch, Harry," Dumbledore said. "She speaks only the truth."

"Now you're talking in riddles like she does," Ron grumbled.

"Ah, Mr Weasley, you have met her too?"

"Did you have the amulet?" Harry said urgently, waving at Ron to be quiet. "What is it for? How does it work?"

"I believe you can figure that out," Dumbledore said enigmatically. "You have the means at your disposal."

"Telling me I already know what I don't know," Harry muttered. "You're as bad as she is."

"Always has been," Snape grumbled. Harry shot him a glance and his mouth quirked up in an involuntary grin. Snape's painted visage shuddered. "Don't start bonding with me, Potter."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry said, straight-faced.

"Potter!" barked Snape suddenly. "Why are you purple?" Harry glared at the painting and turned to Professor McGonagall.

"Why did you have us meet here?" he asked wearily.

"Thank you, Mr Potter," the Headmistress said with a sigh. "I think it is imperative that we move on to more pressing matters. You are required at home-"

"All of us, Professor?" Hermione interrupted. "It will leave the school without the Head Boy and Girl-"

"You're not Head Boy, surely, Weasley?" Snape interrupted.

"No, I'm not," Ron growled. "But I could have been-"

"Not in Potter's shadow, you couldn't," said Snape. Ron drew his wand, advancing on the painting. Harry and Hermione both moved to hold him back.

"I'm not in anyone's shadow," Ron said through clenched teeth.

"Really, Severus," Dumbledore said with a twinkling smile. "You're not helping."

"If you are quite finished with this display?" Professor McGonagall's lips had disappeared in a thin line and she was wearing her most disapproving glare. "As I was saying, you are required at home and yes, Miss Granger, I realise both the Head Boy and the Head Girl will be gone, but this cannot be helped. We will get along quite fine without you until this matter is resolved. I am sure Mr Longbottom will fill in admirably in your absence-"

"Longbottom?" Snape's portrait scoffed. "Longbottom couldn't fill in a crossword with a Solve-It quill!"

"Severus!" McGonagall snapped, losing her last shred of patience. She drew her wand and threw a silencing spell at Snape's portrait.

"He's been a little irritable since he woke up," Dumbledore confided with a wink. "But no more irascible than usual."

"Albus," McGonagall warned. She turned back to her students. "Please, take hold of this Portkey. I need to activate it. Your mother will explain everything when you arrive."

Harry had only seconds to grab hold of the dustbin lid before he felt the jerk behind his navel and landed, sprawling in a heap on the floor of The Burrow's kitchen.

"Oh, thank goodness you are here!" Molly exclaimed. She bustled over to Ginny and pulled her up off the floor, enveloping both her and Hermione in a fervent hug. Harry stood up slowly and looked around the kitchen, noting the tense stance of Bill and Arthur, the worried look etched on Percy's features and the pale, drawn look on Angelina's face. Fleur was pushing a cup of hot chocolate across the table to her sister-in-law and she looked more worried than Harry had ever seen her.

"What's going on, Mum?" Ron demanded loudly. "I had to go through Snape to get here, there better be a damn good reason for it!"

"Professor Snape's dead, Ron," Arthur said bluntly, rubbing his face wearily.

"He's got a _portrait_," Ron snapped. "Whose idea was it to put him up there with all the great headmasters and so on? If I ever get my hands on the git I'll show him what I think of that stupid idea."

"It was me, Ron," Harry said.

"Oh," Ron replied weakly, before adding hotly, "well, he's still a git. What sort of sadistic bastard smiles when you tell him your brother's dead and reckons it's a pity it wasn't you?"

Angelina let out a strangled cry and began sobbing in earnest as Ron spoke. Ginny looked at her in alarm.

"Shut up, Ron," she said urgently. "Mum, why are we here? Where's George?"

Her only answer was Angelina's heart wrenching sobbing.


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48. Innuendo**

Angelina's sobs echoed around the cramped kitchen. Harry looked around in confusion. A blackened cauldron was sitting on the stovetop and a wooden spoon was spinning drunkenly in a chipped bowl splattered with batter. It looked sort of worn out and wobbly as if the magic had worn off but it couldn't quite manage to stop. There was a cake tin lying upside down on the floor near the hearth and a thin film of flour on the table.

"We're not sure where George is," Arthur said quietly. "No one's seen him since this morning."

"What do you mean?" Ron demanded. "Why wasn't he at the shop?"

"He came here to get me some of Molly's tea …" Angelina trailed off.

"It's wonderful for pregnant witches," Molly said absently.

"He didn't come back to the shop," Bill said.

"And you're just telling me this _now_?" Ron glared at his family.

"I checked the … ah, well the … pubs," Percy said delicately. "Hannah has not seen him all week."

"Aberforth?" Ron demanded. Percy shook his head and Ron swore.

"Beel and I checked ze White Elephant and ze Rockin' Robin," Fleur added, "but 'e 'as not been zere." Harry noticed her French accent was getting very pronounced and her eyes were drooping, almost shut, as she leaned against her husband.

"What about the Fallow Field?"

"Charlie's gone there," Arthur said absently, tapping his fingers on the table in an agitated fashion. "So far none of the publicans have seen him."

"Did you check Muggle pubs?" Ron asked, sinking into a chair opposite his father.

"Kingsley has had a few of the trainee Aurors out," Arthur said, nodding.

"Oh, the Ministry can spare a few Aurors on searching for one drunk wizard?" Ron asked. He glared at Harry. "Funny no one takes me seriously about Harry." Harry just glared right back at his best friend, irritated.

"Given what George is capable of," Bill said wryly, "this is more of a Statute of Secrecy matter than anything else." Ron snorted.

"Why?" Ginny asked, sitting next to Ron. "He's been doing really well. Why has he suddenly gone … off again?" Arthur cleared his throat and Bill shifted uneasily. Percy pushed his glasses further up his nose.

"One cake … I was only making one cake," Molly said absently as she patted Angelina on the shoulder. Ginny let out a soft gasp.

"It's their birthday tomorrow," Bill said, staring vacantly at the fireplace.

"I always make them _two _cakes," Molly said, staring at the window. "I … I f-forgot."

"At least you remembered it was their birthday," Angelina's voice rasped out.

"You've got a lot on your mind," Molly soothed.

"You'd think I could remember my own husband's _birthday_," Angelina said angrily, closing her eyes.

"Pregnancy can make you forgetful-"

"Not just his birthday," Angelina continued harshly. "_Fred's_ birthday. It's no wonder he's gone! He's probably realised what a terrible wife I am and that we've made the biggest mistake of our lives and I'm the dumbest, stupidest, most idiotic fool for trapping him into this mess!"

"Now, now, don't upset yourself-"

"It's George's birthday!" Angelina shouted. She pushed at the back of her chair with one hand, shifting slightly in an effort to stand up. "And he's hurting and missing and I am so fat and ugly I can't even get out of this chair!"

"You're not fat-"

"Not that he'd want me to!" wailed Angelina, rocking forward slightly in an effort to get up. She slumped back, defeated. "He probably never wants to look at me again. I should go home and pack up my things … only it's not home any more is it … because he'll want me to leave after this-"

She burst into tears again as Molly pulled her into a motherly embrace and rocked her, making shushing noises and crooning nonsense into her ear.

"What if he … can't come home?" Ginny ventured tentatively. Molly looked up sharply.

"What do mean, Ginny?" Hermione asked. Ginny shot a glance at Harry before looking back at her friend.

"We know that someone wants to … harm Harry-"

"What?" Bill asked blankly. Suddenly everyone in the room was looking at Harry and he shifted nervously.

"You think someone has … taken George?" Arthur ventured. Ginny hunched one shoulder and shook her head, mumbling something that sounded like 'maybe'.

"I suppose it's possible ..." Hermione didn't sound convinced of her own words.

"He was the one … with me that day … on the staircase," Harry ventured, fighting the desperate urge to leave. He fidgeted nervously, shuffling closer to the back door.

"Harry …" Arthur fixed him with a look that said more than any words could express: if Harry attempted to flee there would be trouble.

Not that he was thinking of leaving.

Well, maybe just a little.

Harry took a deep breath and nodded to Arthur to let the man know he'd understood. Squaring his shoulders, he took a step forward and pulled out a chair, gesturing for Hermione to sit.

"Harry?" questioned Angelina suddenly. Harry looked up at her. She tilted her head and squinted before continuing. "Are you … purple?"

"It's just temporary," Harry muttered.

"You hope," Ron mumbled under his breath. Angelina surprised them all by swearing suddenly.

"I'm going to kill him!"

"I know you're upset that he's … not here, dear," Molly interjected, patting Angelina's arm gently, "but-"

"No, no, no," Angelina said impatiently, waving Molly away. "He _promised_ me he wasn't going to test it on Harry!"

"Test what?" Ginny asked. Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"He's been trying to develop a potion that changes the colour of your skin," Angelina said. "For Quidditch supporters – so they can wear their team colours."

"What sort of Quidditch team is that particular shade of purple?" Bill asked with a smirk. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I should never have left him alone with the Venomous Tentacula," Angelina muttered. "He swore he could make one that would turn Harry back to his original colour."

"Pasty white?" Ron snickered. Harry threw him a dark glare.

"So you're saying this isn't because of the Dragon Pox cure Madam Pomfrey gave me?" Harry asked. "This is because George was trying to turn me … pink?"

"Well not _pink_, pink-"

"Madam Pomfrey gave you the cure?" Molly shrieked, cutting Angelina off.

"I'm fine," Harry said hopelessly as Molly bustled around to him and began feeling his forehead. Harry gave up trying to fend her off and simply let Molly inspect his face and peer into his eyes.

"So is it just your face or …" Bill was unable to hide his smirk as he gazed at Harry.

"And my chest," Harry sighed.

"Travelling south is it?" Bill smirked. Harry ignored him.

"Well, you don't _feel _hot," Molly murmured. She began probing his neck with her fingertips. Harry jerked out of her grasp but Molly just tilted his chin up and began prodding again. Ginny stifled a giggle. Molly shot her daughter an exasperated look. "Just want to see if maybe your glands are up … did Madam Pomfrey check?"

Harry squirmed out of her way as Ron and Bill both tried to hide their chuckling behind their hands.

"Shouldn't we be more worried about George?" Harry asked plaintively.

"He should be worried, more like it," Angelina muttered ominously. "Just wait until I get my hands on him."

"We need to find him first," Percy interjected soberly. He unfurled the parchment he'd been studying and laid it on the table.

"You don't know he did this …" Harry trailed off as Angelina fixed him with a stare and raised her eyebrows.

"I've divided this map into six sections," Percy began but was interrupted by a ridiculously loud squawking sound. Pigwidgeon, who had been fluttering around Errol's head, began flapping madly around the room and Errol fainted, landing with a thump in the sink as a majestic black bird swooped in the kitchen window. It flew in an awkward arc half way around the kitchen before whirling abruptly and landing on the table, with a little jump and a bit of a stagger.

"What the bloody hell-"

"Ronald! Language!"

"That's a cockatoo!" Ginny exclaimed. "How did it get here?"

"Someone sent it with mail by the looks of it," Bill remarked dryly, pulling on the string that tied the parchment to the bird's leg. He squinted at it. "It's addressed to … Harry?"

"Letters from Australia appear to circumvent the Minister's attempts to screen your mail," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"Australia?" Molly asked as Harry broke the seal on the parchment and unrolled it.

"The bird," Hermione said gesturing, "is an Australian cockatoo."

"There's no way that bird flew all the bloody way here," Ron said.

"They might've Portkeyed it partway?" Ginny said. Harry scanned the first few lines of the hastily scrawled missive.

"It's from Jonathon."

"We really should be looking for George," Percy interrupted. "Now, about my map-"

"What's he want?" Ron asked Harry, ignoring his older brother. "He's got bloody bad timing." Percy began to remonstrate but was cut off by his mother.

"Ronald, one more word out of you and-"

"Listen," Harry said urgently. He shook the parchment out and began to read. "_Dear Harry, sorry to write to you dir … directly, I know you're a busy bloke and all. We've run into a bit of a … snag …_ His writing's shocking, then it says something, something _George_ … something _bloody shock_ and then it says scribble, scribble, scribble … _can't get home_ … something, something … _red tape_?" Harry broke off, peering at the letter. Ron thrust his illuminated wand tip nearer to the scroll and peered at the letter with him.

"I think that says _Australia_," Ron muttered. "_Portkey Office_ … It says they've run into a snag at the Portkey Office?"

"They?" Hermione asked. "As in he and … George?"

"This would have been clearer if he'd written it in Ancient Runes!" Ron complained.

"Here, let me," Ginny said impatiently, holding her hand out. "I got pretty good at reading chicken scratch reading year after year of letters from Hogwarts written by you lot." Ginny took the letter and smoothed it on the table in front of her.

"_Dear Harry, sorry to write to you directly, I know you must be a busy bloke and all. We've run into a bit of a snag. Bert and Ernie picked up George in Darwin today – Bert says it was a bloody shock to see him standing there, half-dead from Apparition. He's worn himself out mate; he can't get home like this. The bloody red tape ..._"

"He's in Australia?" Angelina asked, dazed. "How did he get there?"

"How did that bird get back here?" Ron asked. Ginny cleared her throat pointedly.

"_I'm not sure how the idiot managed to Apparate himself here in just a couple hours but he muttered something about splinching in Sri Lanka. He managed to emergency hail the Roobus before practically fainting so Ernie brought him straight back to Sydney. The Healers at St Clodus said he's fine, just bloody tired from all the Apparating which they reckon no bloke with a full set of snags would do. He must've had some real important reason for doing it but I don't know what it is, mate because he's not talking._"

"At least we know where he is," Arthur murmured.

"I'll keep reading, shall I?" Ginny asked with a rather irritated glance at her father. "_Bert tried to get an emergency Portkey but old Gertrude at the office is a bit put out with her because of this one time she sat Little Wally Hoffler next her on the Roobus and he biffed his biscuits all over her new crocodile shoes. You know Bert – she's not very … subtle and they ended up throwing her out of the Ministry. Anyway, long story short, I got Ernie to get his Uncle Zeke to make one of his vet animal Portkeys and we had the nerd next door configure it to go to London instead of Perth and hopefully Bessie got to you in one piece._"

"Is that even possible?" Bill wondered aloud.

"Well I _am_ reading the letter," Ginny said. "At least I am when I am not being interrupted by my rather annoying family. As I was saying – _So we're hoping you can figure out a way at that end to get some Pommy pen-pusher to sign off on something real quick because George is in a bad way. I don't think he's drunk but he keeps crying in his sleep and muttering for Fred. I reckon you can grease some wheels other people can't reach, mate. Look after Bessie until we can figure out a way to get her back. Best, Jonathon._"

"Merlin's Beard!" exclaimed Arthur. "George went to Australia? But why?"

"I think he went to find Jonathon," Ron said, "because Jonathon knows how he feels."

"But he's been doing really well," Angelina protested. "He's been inventing again and we've been shopping for the baby and … and we decided to name him … we're going to call him Fred …" The kitchen was silent for a moment.

"What if it's a girl?" Ginny suddenly asked with a decidedly mischievous lilt to her voice.

"It's a _Weasley_ baby," Angelina said with a slight smirk. A ripple of laughter went around the table.

"How do you get a Portkey to … from? What do we need to get?" Harry asked Arthur. "And how do we get it at nearly midnight?"

"Well, I think we should get it from Australian officials," Arthur mused. "It's not the middle of the night there. There's an international Floo at the Ministry. I think this Jonathon fellow is right. If anyone can get Smeggins to open it up at midnight … it'd be you." Arthur shrugged apologetically.

Harry sighed heavily. He would do anything to help George. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but he hated being reminded of his fame. Being at Hogwarts meant he forgot it for the most part and the students were used to him now. He realised that the reason the letter was addressed to him and not to George's family was because he was Harry Potter. He could get things done when others could not.

"Let's get in touch with this Smeggins then," Harry said.

More than three hours later, close to half past four in the morning, Harry had signed six photographs for Smeggins' grandchildren, four legal forms, in triplicate, to get an emergency international Portkey and the Gringotts authorisation to pay for repairs to St Clodus Hospital for Magical Medical Emergencies, although he was still waiting for the full story about that. Harry had Flooed both the Australian Ministry and Bert and Jonathon to set up the Portkey and arrange for George to get home. Now he just wanted to sleep for a week.

The Burrow was quiet as Harry and Arthur stumbled through the back door. The scattered mugs on the table were a testament to the late night. The hot chocolate lay congealing in their bottoms and several chocolate rings littered the table top. A pair of dragon hide boots lay in a heap near the hearth and a heavy, black cloak was thrown over the back of a chair.

"Charlie must have gotten back then," Arthur said wearily. He threw the Portkey authorisation on the table and shrugged out of his own robes. "Go up and get some sleep, Harry. The Portkey's due in a couple of hours and we'll need to be in London for that."

Harry trudged up the stairs, pausing at Ginny's door. He stopped for a moment, listening to the low murmur of Arthur reassuring his wife that everything had gone well. He could hear the rumble of Charlie's snores from Percy's old room and knew that Bill and Fleur would have stayed too, in Bill and Charlie's old room. Angelina was probably tucked up in the twins' old room. Harry would have a bed in Ron's room again. Harry hesitated, his hand on Ginny's doorknob. He pushed the door open and peered in. She was lying asleep, the waning moon spilling faint light onto her pillow. Two camp beds had been crammed into her little room and Hermione and Angelina rested comfortably in the tiny room. Harry smiled as Ginny shifted in her sleep and breathed his name before he quietly closed the door and padded slowly to the twins' old room.

The room lay empty while the rest of The Burrow was crammed full of sleeping inhabitants. Harry's books lined the shelves and a pile of clean socks was perched on the edge of his bed. One of his cloaks, which he had torn last month, was draped over the chair and Harry remembered Molly offering to mend it for him. As Harry sank onto the bed and pulled off his shoes he realised that they'd not used this room because it was Harry's Room, not just a space they grudgingly made for Harry because he needed somewhere to be, but a place he could really call his own.

Harry shucked off his trousers and flung his socks in the vague direction of the laundry basket in the corner. Clad in only his T shirt and boxers, he climbed into his bed and was asleep within minutes.

* * *

Harry hunched his shoulders and thanked his lucky stars that Bill had thought to cast a complicated network of spells that made Harry appear, not only not purple, but also not Harry Potter. He was hovering in the corner of the International Portkey Station which was situated next to a rather dilapidated old warehouse on the Thames. The Station was full of witches and wizards greeting their family and friends before taking their Portkeys or the Floo to their final destinations. Unfortunately, due to the Easter long weekend, the trainee left behind in the Australian Portkey Office could only authorise a direct-to-London Portkey and not one with an alternate destination. As the signatory on the paperwork, Harry had to collect George in person. Harry thought that was ridiculous and more than once he'd complained about the fact George was being treated like a parcel.

Thus far Harry had signed two copies of the paperwork he'd already signed last night, one waiver of responsibility, sixteen autographs and three versions of the form that would let George back into the country — and George was _still_ stuck in the red tape. Arthur had spent the last half an hour trying to untangle it. As far as Harry knew, George was actually _on_ British soil but they still hadn't seen him. It was nearly lunch time and Harry's stomach was rumbling.

"I think I have discovered the problem," Arthur murmured as he rejoined Harry, juggling a sheaf of parchment. He handed half of it to Harry and began thumbing through the sheets he still held. "We should have brought Percy …"

"He probably would have had half a clue about all this …" Harry watched helplessly as the parchment in his arms slid to the floor.

"Aha!" Arthur cried triumphantly as he waved a particularly long piece of parchment in the air. He dropped the rest of his burden and unfurled the parchment, scanning the document before stabbing at it triumphantly. He thrust it at Harry who took it carefully. Arthur began searching his pockets.

"This says …" Harry squinted at the parchment in his hands. "It says transport for one … and something about reimbursement and … penalties."

"Yes, yes," Arthur said distractedly. "I thought they were pulling my leg, but it's all there in the fine print." He pulled a quill out of his left, back pocket with a flourish. Harry looked down at the parchment in his hands it was bent over itself where he held it, both ends trailing on the floor.

"This is the fine print? For what?"

"The emergency International Portkey fine print," Arthur said distractedly running the tip of the quill down the page. "Ah, here it is … this paperwork," Arthur waved at the parchment littered around them, "is for one emergency International Portkey and if we wish to transport more than one witch or wizard we need to fill in form sixty-four b, sections … a, f and j and pay … oooh, a very large number of Galleons."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose while Arthur bent down and rummaged through the paperwork on the floor. He unearthed three forms and gave them to Harry before flicking his wand and bundling the rest into a pile.

"Right, these are the ones we need-"

"Why do we need to pay for another person?"

"Well, they won't really say, for privacy reasons they tell me," Arthur started apologetically. "I think George brought someone with him, but because we haven't paid for them-"

"Right," Harry said grimly, clutching the forms in his hand so tightly they began to wrinkle in his grasp. "Where are these officials? These forms are a joke. April Fool's Day is over."

Without waiting for Arthur's answer, Harry strode off across the Portkey Station towards a line of people standing in front of an officious-looking red sign.

"Excuse me," Harry said politely to the woman at the end of the line. "Where is the inbound section?"

"Six steps to your left, duck," the woman replied. "Take the corridor on the right, twelve steps down and through the green door. Check your wand at the security grille and get on the elevator. Go up two floors and right six doors and then backwards for three. When you get out, there's a big arrow, you can't miss it."

"Thanks," Harry said faintly. Luckily Arthur joined him because Harry forgot the instructions after he checked his wand. Arthur led the way to the International Arrivals section. Soon they were standing in front of a sleepy-looking wizard in drab grey robes who was reading a rather tattered looking Muggle romance novel under a sign that said _'International Arrivals: Welcome to London'_.

"Hello," Harry said pleasantly. "I'm looking for George Weasley. I'm told you're keeping him captive?"

"Harry!" Arthur hissed.

"No one's allowed to see the detainees," said the wizard, not looking up.

"Oh, I think I am allowed to," Harry said, pulling his Auror medallion out of his pocket and thrusting it under the wizard's nose. The wizard blinked once and lowered his book, looking up at Harry.

"Auror, huh?" he said. "I suppose … 'ere, you look familiar … not one of them fancy rock wizards are you?"

"No," Harry said through gritted teeth, at his wit's end and wishing he'd had more than two hours' sleep.

"Well … you're an Auror by the looks … s'pose you can go in," the wizard muttered. He waved at a blue door to his left and went back to his book.

"Thanks," Harry said acidly and marched in the direction of the blue door. He pushed it open savagely and gazed around the room.

Behind a massive counter filled with whirring bronze machinery churning out parchment sat a little old lady; she was blue-haired and currently being sweet-talked by none other than Jonathon.

"Here now," Jonathon said, "you don't want us two around here, creating any more havoc than we already done, do you?"

"You've taken six years off my life," retorted the witch. "I should ask for compensation."

"The pleasure of our company should be ample compensation," Jonathon said with a winning smile.

"If you'd bought the right Portkey authorisation in the first place, none of this would have happened, young man," the witch said primly.

"I told you, I didn't organise the Portkey," Jonathon said. "A friend did."

"Oh yes," the witch said scornfully. "That story about Harry Potter. I'm not quite so daft as I look, you know! All you have to do is give me the nine thousand Galleons and you can be on your way."

"That's daylight robbery, that is," Jonathon muttered. "D'you really think I go around with nine thousand emergency Galleons in my pocket?"

"No," the witch said haughtily. "I don't expect a wizard like you would have two Galleons to rub together, let alone nine thousand."

"Well, you'd be right there." Jonathon sighed. Harry cleared his throat and Jonathon looked up.

"Yes?" the blue-haired witch asked.

"I've come to fetch George Weasley," Harry said tiredly. "Is he here?"

"Have you got the forms?" The blue-haired witch had switched to a bored monotone voice which did nothing to keep Harry awake.

"Yes, yes," Arthur said breathlessly, shuffling the parchment in his arms and spilling it all onto the counter. Harry carefully laid his three forms down on the counter and they promptly got lost in the rest of the parchment piles. Arthur sighed, looking harried and a little perplexed.

"You must be George's dad," Jonathon said, eyeing Harry carefully. "Who's this bloke then? He regarded Harry a little suspiciously.

"Hello, Jonathon," Harry said, a tired grin on his face. "How much trouble are you in?" Jonathon's eyes widened and he peered at Harry more closely before he smirked.

"Nothing a little signature and nine thousand Galleons won't fix," Jonathon replied with a cheeky grin. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I need the correct signature on the requisite forms before anyone can go anywhere," the blue-haired witch droned. She shuffled a few pieces of parchment, muttering 'Weasley' over and over. "Says here I need form sixty-four b sections a, f and j and I need form twenty-seven all filled in by one Harry James Potter … are you he?" She peered up at Harry.

"Yes," Harry said shortly. He turned to Arthur. "Have we _got_ form twenty-seven?"

"Yes, right here," Arthur reassured him. "We filled this one in already."

"Fair Dinkum, mate!" Jonathon suddenly exclaimed. "Are you bloody purple then?" The blue-haired witch behind the counter muttered something about the effects of Billywigs and the younger generation before turning back to Harry.

"The forms?" she asked pointedly.

"Forms sixty-four b … a … f … j …" Arthur muttered, rifling through the parchment. He extracted the forms and thrust a quill at Harry who signed his name rapidly on all three sheets.

"You still have to pay the extra fee," intoned the witch, "if you want to take your friends home."

"Well, I don't carry nine thousand Galleons in my pocket," Harry protested.

"A Gringotts authorisation will do," the witch said.

"On form a?" Arthur asked tightly, reaching for the parchment.

"Just write your vault number in the space provided and sign it," The witch said with a barely perceptible eye roll. Arthur held out his hand for the quill but Harry shook his head and gently took the parchment from Arthur's grasp.

"Harry …" Arthur started to shake his head.

"It goes both ways, Dad," Harry said. Arthur looked as if he were about to protest but Harry ignored him. He smoothed the parchment on the counter and carefully filled in his vault number. He handed it to the witch and she began stamping the scrolls with a huge rubber stamp, banishing them to a filing cabinet in the corner. Then she opened up a door in the counter and motioned them through.

"You can leave from the Floo in Detention Room Six if you like," she droned. Arthur thanked her quietly and he and Harry followed Jonathon as he led them towards the back of the room, behind a partition and in front of a door marked with a large 6.

"Jonathon," Harry said, "what are _you_ doing here?"

"I couldn't leave him," Jonathon said, his hand on the doorknob. He paused and shrugged. "He … he's in a bad way and … he wouldn't have gotten on the Portkey by himself." Jonathon looked helplessly at Arthur.

"Thank you," Arthur said.

"Well … he's just though here." Jonathon opened the door slowly.

George was sitting, curled up on a tiny window seat, his arms hugging his knees. Outside rain was sheeting down the window and it looked grey and dreary. Harry imagined that the weather fit George's mood perfectly. His skin had a sickly pallor and his hair hung limply in his face. His freckles looked washed out and his knuckles white as they clutched his elbows.

"He actually looks loads better than he did when we took him to St Clodus'," Jonathon said quietly as they approached.

"George?" Arthur said quietly. George turned to look at his father and shrugged but didn't say anything.

"Hasn't said much," Jonathon commented. Arthur reached over and put a hand on George's shoulder, squeezing lightly.

"Let's get you home, son."

"I wrecked the hospital," George said dully.

"It doesn't matter," Arthur said.

"Wasn't the whole hospital," Jonathon said with false cheer, "was just that one room and half the nurses' station."

"I didn't mean to," George said, closing his eyes and turning to the window again.

"Accidental magic," Jonathon whispered. "Blew the place up when he came to and they asked him what day it was."

"It doesn't matter," Arthur repeated. "Angelina's very worried." George clutched the sleeves around his elbows tighter and shook his head frantically.

"She … I didn't mean … she's going to hate me …"

"She's just worried," Arthur reassured his son. "So is your mother."

"She only made one cake," was all George said as he stared out of the window.

"That's what had you on me doorstep?" Jonathon asked, a puzzled frown on his face.

"Come on, let's go home," Arthur said. He glanced at George nervously. George remained steadfastly staring out of the window. The fire in the Floo grate popped and crackled in the silent room.

"Look, I don't mind bringing you home, mate," Jonathon said, "but I wouldn't mind knowing why you've flipped your gourd and Apparated halfway around the world."

"I'm twenty-one," George said tonelessly. Jonathon looked at Harry helplessly. Harry didn't know what to say. He could sense that George was close to breaking point and didn't want to be the one to set him off.

"Let's go home," Arthur urged his son again, grasping his shoulder. George moved this time. Slowly. Mechanically.

There was a pot of Floo powder on the mantelpiece and Harry held it out to Arthur who guided George into the massive stone fireplace.

"The Burrow!" Arthur called as he threw down a handful of Floo powder. The two of them disappeared in a whirl of green flames.

"It's so weird," Jonathon commented. "No little white box …" Harry just grinned and held out the Floo powder. The two of them quickly followed George and Arthur and Harry tumbled out into the kitchen at The Burrow, nearly tripping over both the grate and Jonathon as he exited.

Harry stared around at the kitchen of The Burrow. The room was eerily quiet although it was filled with Weasleys. The back door was swinging on its hinges and the sweet scent of early spring flowers drifted through. Arthur was staring hopelessly at the door and the rest of the family were sitting around the table – except for George. Harry surmised that he'd gone out the back door. An angry shout from outside and the sound of something smashing made everybody wince.

"George seems … unhappy," Jonathon observed dryly. "Anyone care to fill me in?"

No one had a chance to because the door flew open again and George stood in the doorway, breathing heavily.

"I'm twenty-one," he said quietly. "I'm _older_ than Fred."

"Oh," Jonathon said into the stillness. "It's your birthday." George's knuckles were white as he clutched the doorhandle and nodded jerkily.

"George, I-" Angelina stopped talking when George closed his eyes and shook his head slightly.

"Well, that explains a lot," Jonathon continued. He continued on blithely as George's grip on the doorknob got tighter. "Next time, get Harry to organise you an authorised Portkey _before you go_ so he's not spending all night signing emergency paperwork." George's eyes snapped open and he stared hard at Jonathon who stood idly inspecting his fingernails.

"I – what?" George said blankly.

"I hope you didn't break anything important," Jonathon continued as if he were talking about something as mundane as the weather. "I sent six cricket balls through the neighbour's windows. It wasn't pretty. Of course, I was _trying_ to get Mum to cancel my birthday party."

George just stared stonily at Jonathon.

"The windows weren't important though," Jonathon said gently. "It was supposed to be our seventeenth, and Mum's a Muggle but … me older brother told her about the watches. I… figured out which box it was in and I destroyed it."

"Why?" George asked with a growl.

"Why do you think?" Jonathon countered. George didn't answer for a moment and turned away, his hand loosening on the doorknob.

"That's not an answer," George muttered. He started to let the door close behind him.

"Why do you think I did it?" Jonathon said again, more forcefully this time. "Tell me!"

"Because there were supposed to be two watches!" George shouted, turning around. "Because when you wish for a birthday to yourself it's not supposed to happen and when there's only one cake it's a lie!" The curtains in the window began fluttering as if a strong breeze was sweeping through the room. Ron started towards George as he threw the door fully open and it banged against the wall with a loud crash.

"BECAUSE I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO GET OLDER THAN FRED!"

One of the panes in the window shattered spectacularly and sprayed out into the afternoon sunshine, sparkling as the shards twisted in the air like shimmering diamonds. Arthur flinched and Charlie swore.

"This is like being half a person," George said brokenly.

"I know," Jonathon said simply.

"It didn't mean anything until yesterday," George admitted, running a hand through his hair. "It didn't bother me – because I refused to think about it – until … until … you made one cake." He turned to his mother helplessly.

"Oh Georgie …"

"I just … I couldn't think and I didn't …" George took a deep breath. "I just started Apparating. I didn't even think about it. I … I forgot the tea." George sought Angelina's gaze.

"That's okay," she said.

"I'm really sorry," George said. Silent tears began to roll down his cheeks. Angelina struggled out of her chair and made her way to her husband, pulling him into her embrace. Arthur flicked his wand, muttering an incantation to repair the window.

The atmosphere was tense and strained. Harry wasn't quite sure where to look or what to say. He looked at Ginny helplessly. She only returned his helpless look.

"We've not met," Charlie said to Jonathon, extending his hand. The low murmur of their introductions directed everyone's attentions away from George and Angelina as she led him outside. The door swung softly shut behind them.

"Real sorry to barge in unannounced like this," Jonathon announced to the room at large.

"Never mind that," Arthur said. "Thank you, for looking after him – for bringing him home."

"I didn't do much," Jonathon shrugged. He jerked a thumb out the window at George and Angelina, who were walking hand in hand across the garden, going in the direction of Fred's grave. "Who's the bird?"

Bill and Ron snorted as Ginny and Hermione turned to Jonathon as one and raised their eyebrows. Jonathon just grinned rakishly and chuckled.

"Hasn't he written?" Harry asked then. Jonathon shook his head.

"Not since Christmas."

"Too busy with his wife I expect," Charlie said with a soft chuckle.

"That's his _wife_?" Jonathon asked, incredulous. "Well, I'll be …"

"She's a lovely girl, they used to play Quidditch together," Molly said. "Can I offer you a drink?"

"Sure," Jonathon said easily, "whatever's going."

Arthur urged him to sit down and Molly put out cups of tea and plates of scones. The conversation became more animated as the group talked, avoiding the subject of George and his birthday. Charlie filled everyone in on his job and Hermione explained enthusiastically about her Ancient Runes project for NEWTs. Harry sat quietly, breaking a scone into tiny pieces, littering his plate with the debris.

"So, Harry," Jonathon said suddenly, leaving Bill and Hermione to argue about Ancient Runes and Charlie showing off his latest scars while his mother tutted over them, "still don't know why you're purple. You look like old Astrid Wintergarden after she's finished at the hairdressers."

"Oh, Ron," Molly interjected. "Did you figure out a cure for that yet?"

"No," Ron said plaintively. "I don't know how to do that. I just sell things!"

"I think you look fetching," Charlie said with a sly wink at Harry. "Very … pretty."

"I don't want to look pretty," Harry grumbled.

"No," Charlie said. "You want to look rugged … and manly … and … suave." He winked exaggeratedly and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Well as soon as George comes back we'll have him reverse it," Molly said, standing abruptly. "Honestly, I don't know what you lot are thinking half the time – probably not thinking more like it." She kept muttering as she began to clear the table.

"D'you think George will be all right?" Ginny asked Jonathon in a tiny voice under cover of her mother's activity.

"Sure he will," Jonathon said bracingly. "He'll get there. Not surprising he had a bit of a moment really. Birthdays are hard and this one … coming on top of a holiday-" Ginny cut him off with a gasp.

"Oh no," she moaned, "the tryouts."

"Harpies tryouts?" Ron asked through a mouthful of scone. "I thought they were at Easter."

"Easter is _tomorrow_ Ron!" Ginny said. "I forgot! I'm supposed to be in Wales by tomorrow at lunch time!" Ginny dropped her head into her hands and sighed.

"How'd you forget something like that, Squirt?" Charlie asked.

"I didn't forget about the tryouts," Ginny snapped. "I forgot that Easter was coming up so soon. It's been a … distracting week. I mean you've been swanning around in Romania-"

"Second degree burns are not _swanning around_," Charlie retorted.

"- while Harry's been sick and Neville's been on some sort of bender about Crockwell," Ginny continued as if Charlie had not interrupted. "And some kid called Mavis Tavistock asked if I was about to marry Stubby Boardman!"

"I haven't been sick," Harry muttered.

"You're still purple," Charlie smirked.

"I was going to pack last night and then McGonagall called me to her office …" Ginny trailed off helplessly.

"I thought Easter was next week," Ron said.

"Well, it's not!" snapped Ginny.

"You have until tomorrow," Harry said, laying a hand on her arm. "It'll be fine."

"I was supposed to catch a train tomorrow morning," Ginny sighed. "I was just going to catch it from Hogsmeade. Now I'm stuck in Devon, nowhere near a train station, and without my broomstick or Quidditch gear. It'll take all day to get an Owl to Professor McGonagall to get a Floo cleared. I'll have to catch the Knight Bus." She groaned.

"You should really get your Apparition licence," Hermione mused. Ginny glared at her but Hermione continued eating her scone unperturbed.

"Perhaps if there had been any lessons last year I might have been able to take the test this summer," Ginny replied through gritted teeth.

"Come on," Harry said, standing up. "I'll take you Side-Along to Hogwarts to get your things and we'll head to Wales tomorrow after lunch."

"But George …"

"Will understand," Harry said.

"No," Ginny said with a slight smile. "I mean, shouldn't we wait for George to do something about your face?"

******************

It was, perhaps, the most agonising weekend of Harry's life, he reflected on Tuesday morning as the Hogwarts Express pulled out of King's Cross. He had spent the weekend avoiding Hermione and Ron who were alternately bickering viciously or staring into each others eyes like lovesick fools or at the shop with George while he tried to turn him back to his original colouring.

"I'm really sorry, Harry," George said late on Sunday afternoon after another failed attempt that rendered Harry's hands and feet Puddlemere Blue and his face stubbornly Cannons Orange. "It wasn't supposed to be … well … permanent."

"It doesn't look permanent," said Jonathon idly from his perch on George's workbench. "You're changing his colour with alarming regularity."

It was true; Harry had spent the majority of Saturday morning a delightful shade of puce that George assured him was actually the colour for the Vrasta Vultures.

"I bet they win because the other team is vomiting too much over their uniforms," Harry grumbled.

Later that afternoon, after several more colour changes, Harry ended up dark green with a gold nose. George wanted to leave Harry in the Harpies colours, but when Harry threatened to make him repay the nine thousand Galleon fee for Jonathon's impromptu holiday, George turned all his efforts back to fixing what he called 'Harry's Complexion Difficulties'.

After a brief stint in a rather unbecoming shade of shocking-pink and a couple of hours in black and white stripes, Harry was finally returned to his original shade. If it hadn't taken all weekend he might have hugged George in relief. As it was, he scowled at him and stomped out when George thanked him for testing all the Quidditch colours.

Charlie stayed for Easter and delighted in trying to trick Harry into saying something he'd regret.

"So, what will you do if Ginny doesn't make the team?" Charlie asked Monday night at the tea table.

Harry eyed him warily, knowing that no matter what he answered Charlie would find some way to make it sound perverted.

"Commiserate?" Harry ventured.

"Well that's one way …" Charlie said vaguely. Harry glared at him.

"Ginny will make it," Ron said confidently. "But I'm not changing my team. She can be a Harpy all she wants. I'm still supporting the Cannons!"

"Yes, because that works out so well for you now," Charlie said dryly.

Harry stared idly out of the window as the city gave way to rolling fields. He missed Ginny. He'd seen so little of her during his confinement to various sick beds. Then he'd had to fetch George and after that take Ginny to Hogwarts to pack and on to Wales for the Harpies tryouts. Apart from one absolutely glorious, but all too short snog late on Thursday, and wishing her good luck outside the Harpies stadium Harry hadn't been alone with Ginny in over a week. She would be meeting them back at Hogwarts and the train couldn't go fast enough for Harry.

He listened with half an ear as Hermione handed out new patrol schedules and reminded the Prefects of their duties now that the exams were coming up. He wasn't really listening though. He was planning how he was going to explain what had happened last night to Ginny – and not have her hex him.

Harry sat curled in an armchair in the sitting room of The Burrow while Ron and Hermione squabbled over the Easter eggs.

"Take the blue one back to Hogwarts for Ginny," Ron said. "She won't ever know the yellow one was bigger."

"They are all _hers_ Ron!"

"Hermione … its chocolate and it's mocking me, sitting there like that in its little foil wrapper …"

"Have a chocolate frog if you are so desperate!"

"But Easter Eggs taste better," Ron whined.

"It's just chocolate!" Hermione exclaimed. "It doesn't matter!"

"No," Ron said with a shake of his head. "It tastes better when it's an Easter egg."

"I'm not giving you one of mine and I'm not letting you eat Ginny's!"

"Fine," Ron said. "I'll have a stupid chocolate frog then, since my girlfriend is such an egg hog."

"I am not an egg hog!"

Harry threw a chocolate frog at Ron's head. Ron glared at him, rubbing his head.

"What'd you do that for?" demanded Ron.

"You were annoying me," Harry said easily.

"Maybe you're annoying me," Ron muttered as he tore the chocolate frog open. He savagely bit the head off as he flipped the card over. "Stupid Myron Wagtail … who wants Wagtail anymore? Bloody ponce."

"What's wrong with you, Ron?" Harry asked. "You're in a right foul mood."

"Nothing," replied Ron sullenly.

"Yeah, if anyone's got reason to be in a foul mood, its Harry," Charlie said with a smirk. "And you don't see him biting everyone's head off."

"Why would Harry be in a foul mood?" Hermione asked.

"Blokes get that way when they don't … you know …"

"Shut up, Charlie," Harry said.

"I don't want to hear about Harry shagging my sister!" Ron cried.

"Oh Merlin, Ron!" Harry groaned. "Shut up!"

"Blame him!" Ron said, stabbing a finger in Charlie's direction. "He's the one who's been bringing it up all weekend!"

"Oh, don't pretend you haven't been thinking about it, too," Charlie said with a smirk.

"I have not!" protested Ron. "The _last_ thing I think about is Harry … and Ginny and … _that_!"

"I meant you thinking about _you_ doing it, you big oaf!"

"Oi! That's private!" Ron protested.

"It is?" Harry muttered sarcastically.

"Potter?" Charlie asked idly. Harry glared at hm.

"What?"

"You're just lucky I don't beat people up at Easter."

Harry gestured rudely at Charlie and Ron snorted.

"Honestly!" said Hermione. She didn't get to expand further on what Harry was sure would have been a lengthy discourse on appropriate behaviour or something as equally annoying. Molly chose that moment to enter the sitting room and enquire if they needed any laundry done before they left in the morning. Ron and Charlie continued to gesture and make faces at each other while Harry and Hermione politely assured her that they were fine. She turned to leave.

"Stay out of my sex life," Harry heard Ron hiss as Molly got to the doorway.

"If you even have one," Charlie sniggered back in the same low tone.

"Really Charlie," Molly said suddenly, "perhaps you should worry more about your own marital status and less about your brothers' activities." She left the room and Ron sat on the hearth rug, smirking.

"What's my marital status got to do with anything?" Charlie muttered belligerently.

"She's probably concerned that you'll shack up with a dragon," Ron said viciously as he snatched at another chocolate frog.

"I don't know why she's not more concerned you'll shack up with Hermione," Charlie shot back.

"Why shouldn't I?" Ron responded angrily to his brother, the tips of his ears going red.

"Ron-" Hermione's warning was cut off by Charlie's delighted cackle.

"Because Mum's old-fashioned, she's looking for a wedding."

"She doesn't care!" Ron said hotly. "She, unlike some other people in this family, care about people being happy, not _married_!"

"Know that for a fact, do you?" Charlie wore an evil smirk that Harry knew could lead nowhere good.

"Yes!" Ron practically shouted. "You don't see her banning Harry from the house and giving Ginny a chaperone!"

"So … not from personal experience then?" Charlie asked. Harry wanted the floor to open up and swallow him.

"Listen," Harry said in a strained tone, "could we leave me out of this-"

"No," Ron said shortly, "since you're the only one in this room even getting any-"

"Oh ho!" Charlie laughed raucously. "Well, that certainly explains your foul mood then!"

"Shut up!" bellowed Ron.

"Oh, stop it, all of you!" Hermione huffed.

"Me?" Harry squawked indignantly.

"It's no one else's business what we do," Hermione said loftily, "including Molly's."

"Yeah, but you're not doing anything are you?" Charlie smirked.

It was no easy feat to pull Charlie and Ron apart. They were both bigger than Harry for a start. Harry ended up winded and with a black eye when he accidentally got elbowed in the stomach and fell onto the side table. Hermione stunned them both and Arthur and Molly had to come in and drag them into the kitchen before sorting out their injuries.

"Where is that bruise paste," Molly muttered as she rummaged through the kitchen drawers. "Aha … got you … don't know why I thought I'd need this less as you boys got older. And dragging poor Harry into it too …" She began dabbing it on the eye that had swollen shut in mere seconds.

"Dragging him into it?" Charlie said thickly through his cut lip. "He started it."

"I did not!"

"You're the one who admitted to having sex," Charlie said, with a wide grin. Harry shut his other eye in mortification.

"He's right," Ron said gruffly to Charlie, gesturing at Harry with the arm that his father wasn't bandaging. "He didn't start it! You're the one who's been at him all weekend! _You_ brought it up when you decided to rib him about it!"

"He admitted it," Charlie said.

"He was drunk!"

"Really?" Molly's hand stilled on Harry's eye.

"I really don't want to talk about this," Harry muttered. He could _feel_ his face heating up.

"I still think you're just jealous," Ron said, ignoring Harry. "Because the only females you ever see are dragon ones and you've got no chance of a good shag."

"I'm not jealous of _you_ at any rate, am I Ronnie?"

"Stop it!" Ron shouted. "Stop talking about … us like that!"

"Stop it, both of you," Molly said firmly, pressing a little too hard on Harry's eye with the bruise paste. Harry winced. "Sorry, dear."

"But, Mum-"

"Charlie," Arthur interrupted as Molly tilted Harry's face up and twisted it left and right to inspect the bruise, "leave Harry alone and don't start on Ron. Their … intimate moments are none of your business."

"You know about that, Dad?" Charlie asked. "You _know_ about Harry and … Ginny?"

"I knew about it before you did," Arthur replied. Molly let go of Harry's face.

"There might be a slight bruise still there tomorrow, Harry dear," Molly said. Harry heard her screw the lid back on the bruise paste and opened his eyes hesitantly. Molly looked at him critically for a moment. "I'll cast a charm for you in the morning. Last thing we need, now you're finally the right colour, is rumours about a black eye."

"I can't believe you _know_ about this …" Charlie stared at his father in astonishment. "And Harry's still breathing …"

"He's the one that gave Harry The Talk," Ron muttered.

"And here I was thinking we were keeping a secret," Charlie muttered.

"You've done a rotten job of it if you thought it was a secret," Ron retorted. "It's bad enough I _know_ about it. I don't need you reminding me about it all weekend!"

"Can we please drop it?" Harry asked desperately.

"I'm surprised you haven't dropped _him_ in it," Charlie said.

"Harry and Ginny are adults," Arthur said evenly, "and entitled to privacy. You would do well to respect it in future."

"Future … a future where Ginny …" Charlie's face twisted as he scrunched up his face in disgust. Harry ran his hands through his hair, frustrated, embarrassed and entirely unable to make a graceful exit.

"It was going to happen, Charlie," Ron said. "At least we can trust this one." He smirked at Harry who grimaced in return.

"Yeah, but can we trust him to make an honest woman of her?" Charlie said, grinning widely. "I heard he was marrying the Cellist from the Weird Sisters."

"But … he's a _bloke_!" Harry cried, exasperated. Charlie just shrugged, still wearing his feral grin.

"That's a new one," Ron said thoughtfully. "I heard about the lead singer from The Lone Witches and that Quidditch player-"

"Quidditch player?" Harry asked, horrified. "Next they have me married off to … to … Greta Catchlove!"

"Who?" Ron wrinkled his nose. Harry waved at the shelf of books above Molly's kitchen dresser.

"Author of _Charm Your Own Cheese_," he said.

"Why would you want to marry a mouldy old book writer?"

"I wouldn't!" Harry groaned. Hermione started muttering that there was nothing wrong with writing books.

"Well, they didn't say her anyway," Ron said doggedly. "They said you were marrying Geralyn Hughes, the retiring Harpies Chaser."

"I'm not marrying anyone!" Harry said, utterly exasperated. "Especially not the Harpies Chaser!"

"You might have to take that back," Ron said slyly, "if Ginny gets on the team."

"Of course I'll take it back if Ginny gets on the team," Harry snapped. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and exhaled. "I am actually going to marry _her_!"

It was a few moments before Harry realised that the kitchen had grown utterly silent. He dropped his hand and looked up. Ron was staring at him and Charlie suddenly looked deadly serious. Arthur was smiling and Molly looked like she was about to cry. Harry looked at Hermione who was beaming.

"Oh!" Molly said eventually. "I didn't know you'd asked!"

"What?" Harry asked blankly.

"I can't believe she didn't tell me, but, well with George and the tryouts and – oh!" Molly burst into tears and threw her arms around his neck.

"Tell you what?" Harry tried again.

"Now, that's how you keep a secret," Ron said to Charlie.

"What secret?" Harry asked desperately.

"It's understandable why you didn't announce it this weekend," Arthur said, "with George's birthday and everything. But you do have our blessing, son."

"Blessing for what?" Harry asked. "What did I say?"

"We won't say anything dear," Molly said as she pulled away from Harry. "We'll keep as quiet as the grave until you make the announcement. This is such wonderful news!"

"Announce _what_?" Harry tried again. He went back over everything he'd just said. He wasn't marrying a bloke, the lead singer of a band, a mouldy old author or a retiring Quidditch player … but he was going to marry … Ginny.

"But I didn't mean-"

"It will have to be a formal announcement," Molly went on, cutting him off. "We could have an engagement party when school finishes – just close family and friends of course – I wonder if we can manage it before Angelina has the baby or it'd be best to wait until afterwards in any case?"

"I haven't exactly-"

"We could combine it with your birthday celebrations," Molly mused, "but I don't know what the Harpies schedule will be – if Ginny makes the team, of course. I still don't know about this Quidditch business, it's not very safe. Maybe getting married will change her mind in any case …"

"But we-"

"What do you think about a chocolate cake? I could make a big one, in the shape of a love heart. I've never done that before … I'm sure there's a charm in Tilda Tollbooth's _Cookery for Occasions_ …" Molly started flicking her wand at the cookbooks and they floated down to surround her at the table.

Harry sighed heavily as the Express wound its way slowly north. He definitely had some explaining to do to Ginny. He'd given up trying to explain himself to her family. It would be easier to Owl, or if that didn't work, they could always send a Howler.


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49. Fact**

Harry didn't notice when the Prefect meeting was over until Hermione sat down in the faded armchair in front of him and spoke his name softly. Harry looked up, realising that the compartment was empty but for the two of them.

"I sent Neville to patrol with Malfoy," Hermione said.

"What did Neville do to you?" Harry asked. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You've not been paying attention, have you?"

Harry shrugged and went back to staring out the window. In addition to thinking about his faux pas last night, Harry was also dwelling on what Ron had said before he got on the train, urging him, at length, to be careful. Harry was starting to wonder who would kill him first – his mystery assailant or Ginny.

"I thought you might want to talk," Hermione said patiently.

"About what?"

"Last night." Hermione looked expectantly at him.

"What's to talk about?"

"Well … you're not actually engaged … are you?"

"No," Harry muttered. He sighed. "Ginny's going to _kill_ me. Why didn't I _say_ something?"

"Well … Molly was pretty enthusiastic …" Hermione offered, trailing off as Harry thumped his head on the back of his chair. "She didn't give you a lot of room to say much …" Harry just grunted at her.

Last night it had seemed like a good idea to give up trying to explain his statement to Molly. In the cold, hard light of day, and as the train took him closer to Ginny, it seemed incredibly stupid. The way Harry saw it, he had two options: he could tell Ginny upfront what had happened or he could wait until her mother brought it up. Given the inherent danger in the second option, Harry really had no options.

"What are you going to do?" Hermione asked, breaking into Harry's thoughts.

"You mean other than throw myself onto a sacrificial altar?" Harry sniped.

"Don't be so melodramatic."

"I don't know, all right!" Harry closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair.

"Well, you'd better think of something before Ginny gets back," Hermione sniffed. "At least you've got the rest of the train journey – and the carriage ride."

"Yay," said Harry sarcastically.

The rest of the train ride was uneventful. Harry spent the time doing some of the homework he'd neglected over the Easter break. How anyone could call four days a break was beyond Harry and he was sick of doing homework. He sighed heavily throughout the entire thing.

"There'll be plenty of paperwork in the Auror Department," Hermione said from behind the enormous book she was reading. Harry pulled a face and kept scratching away at his Potions essay. He still didn't know how she did that. It was like she knew what he was thinking. She could see the expressions on his face without even appearing to look at him. Harry pitied the fool who tried to cross Hermione Granger.

Having finished his Potions essay, Harry began scratching out his Herbology diagrams and his Muggle Studies book review. He felt a stab of resentment that Ron didn't have to do homework as he shoved all his parchment and ink back in his bag, pulling out _Quidditch Through the Ages_ and a bar of Honeydukes.

"Don't worry," Hermione said as they got off the train and began herding the younger students to the waiting carriages. "I'm sure Ginny will see the funny side of it."

"You didn't," Harry pointed out.

"That was different …"

Harry rolled his eyes at her and turned to help Gilbert down off the train with the enormous cage he was now toting.

"D'you like her, Harry?" asked Gilbert enthusiastically. The small brown owl in the cage hooted softly. "Dad took us to Diagon Alley and got her for me. Gerald got a cat but I think owls are much more useful; they can send letters and everything and now I won't have to use your owl or a school owl and it'll be ever so much quicker. Did you know Dad got a job? He's working at some shop near The Leaky Cauldron fixing things. I don't know what he fixes exactly but he's always been awfully good at fixing things, sometimes he fixes things the Muggle way but that really annoys Kreacher when he does that.

"We've never had a house-elf before and he scares Mum sometimes and Marie likes to order him around but Louise doesn't let her, says it's not right but Marie just teases her because she thinks Spew is stupid, but I think it's really good and me and Eve told them both of for fighting and it's a good thing we did because if we kept fighting Mum was going to take away the Easter eggs – only we weren't fighting, not really it was just a discussion, same as the one we had over who got to eat the last chocolate frog. Not that it mattered because it was just a Neville card and all of us have got about six of those now-"

"Neville?" Harry asked, finally able to break into Gilbert's stream of babble.

"Oh, haven't you seen the Neville card yet then?" Gilbert took a deep breath as Harry hoisted him up into one of the carriages. "D'you think Neville has one? I mean we'd give him one if he didn't have one because we've got heaps. We haven't found one of yours yet – d'you suppose they've made one? I think they would have made one. Professor Fiesche thinks we're all mad but I've seen him with chocolate frogs. D'you think grown-ups have chocolate frog card collections? I reckon he's got his own collection you know. He's not like other adults, is he? I mean he talks to his cat and everything, like she's a real person. I thought his cat was a boy, but it's not. I don't think it really matters, but who asks their cat if they want to have a shower? Don't you think that's a little odd? Still I suppose Mr Filch says strange things to his cat sometimes, maybe it's because they have cats and cats like to be talked to. Do you think it's normal to talk to your pets? What about owls? Do you think owls liked to be talked to like cats? Should I be talking to Harriet?"

"_Harriet_?"

"The owl," Gilbert thrust the cage in Harry's face. Looking desperately around for another carriage, Harry realised Gilbert had been talking so long that all the other carriages had gone and reluctantly climbed into the carriage with Gilbert and a little dark girl he thought looked familiar.

"You called her _Harriet_?" he asked Gilbert with a faint note of horror as he settled into a seat.

"No," Gilbert sighed. "That's the name she came with. Half the pets in the shop were called Harriet, I reckon. Oh except this one snake I saw this girl buy. That one was called Neville. _I_ wouldn't name a pet Harry or Harriet. I mean, I would have named her something a bit more exciting – you know? Harriet it's … well it's a bit ordinary, isn't it? I would have named her something exotic like Magda-"

"Magda's not _exotic_," the girl sniffed.

"Well I was going to say Magdalena but even Magda's better than boring old Harriet!" Gilbert replied hotly.

"There's nothing wrong with Harriet!" The girl huffed. "It's a nice, solid name."

"Yeah, like Gertrude," Gilbert scoffed.

"There is _nothing _wrong with Gertrude," said the girl icily.

"Well I suppose it is a little better than Priscilla," Gilbert conceded. "I mean that's what Professor Fiesche calls his cat and that's just a stupid name."

"It is," agreed the girl, "but what do you have against Gertrude?"

"Well … I mean it's just odd, isn't it?"

"It's my name," said the girl with a smirk.

"Oh," Gilbert looked at her for a moment, colouring brilliantly and his owl hooted. "D'you like being called Gertie then? Because my brother started calling me Gilly on the weekend and I don't like that at all, it sounds like some sort of fish or something. I mean if I was a pet or something it'd be all right, wouldn't it? I think it's a smashing name for a cat but not for me, I'm mean I'm nearly twelve-"

"You'd call a cat Gilly?" Gertrude cut in. "It's worse than Harriet for an owl. You'd better marry someone with a lot more sense than you when it comes to names or your children are all going to hate you."

"Oh, I'm not getting married," Gilbert said with a shudder. "I've seen what it does to people – my parents … ugh. No way, they spend half their time kissing and stuff. I don't know how they ever get anything done!"

"You'd rather end up like Professor Fiesche talking nonsense to your cat, or like Mr Filch?" Gertrude raised an eyebrow delicately. "You do know they are quite mad, don't you? It's all because they're not married. If they were married they'd have someone to take care of them and they wouldn't be quite so odd."

"Maybe they just need a dog?" Gilbert mused as the carriage pulled up to the Hogwarts steps. "I mean, perhaps it's just cat people?"

"My sister has a cat," Gertrude said as she stood up, "and she's perfectly normal. Only perhaps you wouldn't realise that."

"Why wouldn't I realise that?" Gilbert asked, following the girl out of the carriage. He hovered on the steps uncertainly as Gertrude jumped down. "Maybe cats are just for girls and it's only blokes who go a bit mental with a cat?"

"Here, pass me your owl," Gertrude sighed, holding up her hands. Gilbert handed her the owl and jumped down. "Maybe you don't think Slytherins are normal, maybe that's why you wouldn't realise that people with cats can be perfectly normal."

"Why aren't Slytherins normal?" Gilbert asked as he took the cage back from Gertrude. Harry jumped down from the carriage and watched as the Thestral trotted away before climbing the steps to the large oak entrance doors.

"We are normal," Gertrude was saying when Harry turned his attention back to the two children. "It's just … after … everything …"

"You mean all that war stuff?" Gilbert asked innocently as he put his owl next to a stack of other odd bits of luggage in the entrance hall. Harry nearly snorted.

"Yes," Gertrude said. "My brother says people hate us now." She looked rather forlorn as she said it.

"Why?" Harry asked softly. They were alone in the entrance hall, although light and noise spilled from the Great Hall where students were greeting each other after the short break.

"Because he thinks he knows everything," said Gertrude.

"No," Harry chuckled slightly before sobering. "Why does he think people hate Slytherins?" Gertrude just shrugged.

"My dad just hates that Umbridge bitch," Gilbert said unexpectedly before blushing heavily. "Oh … I wasn't supposed to say that. If Mum heard me call her that … If she knew Dad said it to us … well of course Gerald told her, so … um …"

"I won't say anything," Harry said, hiding a smirk.

"Well anyway," Gertrude said with a sniff. "I know Professor Crockwell hates Slytherins. She's awful mean to us all the time. I wish I didn't have to do stupid Muggle Studies. I pity you Gryffindors having to put up with her all the time."

"She's all right," Gilbert shrugged.

"You shouldn't hate someone because of what House they are in," Harry said. "I don't expect Professor Crockwell means to-"

"Oh, she does," Gertrude said firmly, "but then you'd be on her side, wouldn't you?" She peered up at Harry grimly. Harry shook his head.

"I don't hate Slytherins," he said quietly.

"I bet you hated V-V-Voldemort," Gertrude said. Harry shook his head.

"I pitied him," he said quietly. "He didn't know how to love and you can say what you like about Filch and Professor Fiesche, but at least they have something to love … even if it is a mangy old cat. If you love someone … you can't be _all_ bad."

"You could be mostly bad," Gilbert said with a solemn nod.

"You could make bad choices," Harry said. "It doesn't make you a bad person, just like being Slytherin doesn't make you a bad person. It depends what you do, the choices you make." Harry suddenly felt far too old and wise to still be at Hogwarts.

"It's not that simple," Gertrude said sullenly.

"Yes it is," Harry argued.

"You're telling me that Mr Filch is … he's not … but he's _Filch_!"

"At least he knows how to love his cat," Harry said with a shrug.

"He's still creepy," Gilbert insisted.

"Not going to argue with that," laughed Harry. "Come on, we're missing the feast."

"Wait," Gertrude said. "You really don't hate Slytherins?" Harry shook his head.

"Course not," Gilbert scoffed. "Harry doesn't hate anyone. Hey listen, d'you collect chocolate frog cards? Because we collect chocolate frog cards – me and Hamish and Dexter, that is, and Marjorie. Othello doesn't collect them much but he helps us eat 'em so we can get cards. If you collect 'em too then we could get together and swap and stuff I got about six of that Circe one and I really want to get the whole Weird Sisters set but I can't find Myron Wagtail. Have you seen a Myron Wagtail recently? We got the cellist and the drummer the other day and another six of Ron – d'you know Ron? He helped bring my dad home, but I still don't know if I'll ever get a Ptolemy and so if you do eat them you could give us a hand, yeah?" Gilbert looked at the girl hopefully.

"I could get my collection I guess …" the girl trailed off. "Are you sure? Won't your friends mind if a … a Slytherin comes?"

"Why should they?" Gilbert asked, shrugging as he made his way to the doors of the Great Hall. "Dexter brought Alice Thorne the other day and she's in _Hufflepuff_ but she's got an ace collection. Had about five of Morgana! Never seen a Morgana before, she swapped me a Dumbledore cos I got about three of him …"

Harry trailed after the two of them as they arranged to meet in the Great Hall during lunch the following day. Gertrude shyly waved as Gilbert headed to the Gryffindor table and she went to the Slytherin table. Harry noticed Salbadar Limuson scowling at her as she sat down. He realised then why she was so familiar. She looked just like Limuson. He was probably her brother. Harry listened with half an ear to Gilbert's chatter as they made their way to empty seats at the Gryffindor table.

"I reckon we could start a club, you know," Gilbert said as he slid into a chair. "D'you think we should start a club? I mean it's a good way to make friends isn't it? It's a bit dodgy waiting till you took too long getting off the train cos your owl cage is bigger than you are and ending up in a carriage with the girl everyone else thinks is a bit loony – because she is, you know, everyone thinks so, but she's actually quite nice, don't you think?"

Harry nodded absently as he patted Gilbert on the shoulder and scanned the table for Ginny. He caught Hermione's eye and she motioned him over. Harry noticed that Liberty was sitting patiently on one of the empty plates. Harry grimaced, knowing he was never going to eat off it now. He made his way over and slid into the seat in front of his owl. There was a scroll attached to her leg and Harry removed it carefully before snagging a piece of bread to feed Liberty. The owl pecked him affectionately and flew up and out of the Great Hall. Harry unfurled the scroll, smiling as he noticed it was covered in Ginny's hasty scrawl.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope spending the weekend with my git of a brother or three wasn't too traumatic for you – Charlie was giving me a funny look before I left. I think he was plotting something so I hope he didn't hurt you or anything. If he did I'll hurt him back! Ron better not have eaten all my eggs and if he has I'll hex him!_

_I've had a fantastic weekend! I'm really, really tired, but it was just so fantastic, I don't care! I think I'll be back before curfew but I'm staying here a couple hours longer to fix some things up. Wait up for me? I can't wait to see you; I've missed you so much! _

_I love you,  
Ginny_

Harry traced the last line with his fingertip, wondering at it and although they'd said those words to each other too many times to count, he couldn't remember the last time Ginny had written him more than a few hastily scrawled words on a scrap of parchment during Transfiguration. While he treasured the six words she'd used to seduce him right before Christmas and he'd kept the ten she'd written on Valentine's Day and shoved down the back of his robes before laughing, none of those notes said just three words.

"Where's Ginny?" Hermione broke into his thoughts.

"Oh … she's sorting things out," Harry said. "She'll be back later."

"Did she make the team, Harry?" Seamus called from several seats away. Harry shrugged.

"She says she had a fantastic time, so … I guess so."

"No doubt she'll give you one too," Seamus winked, and then grunted as Dean elbowed him sharply in the gut. Harry just gestured rudely at Seamus and grabbed at a chicken leg, carefully not putting it on the plate in front of him.

"What was that on the way in?" Neville asked in a low voice from next to Hermione. Harry raised an eyebrow at Neville in question. Neville jerked his head in Gilbert's direction. Gilbert was talking animatedly to Dexter and Hamish, gesturing towards Gertrude and then to the Hufflepuff table – perhaps indicating Alice. Marjorie pointed a finger at Gilbert and he stuck his tongue out at her, earning a sharp look from Gerald who Gilbert promptly turned his back on.

"Just a bit of the future, Neville," Harry said with a smile, "just a bit of the future." He turned back to his letter, reading the words over and over and ignored Neville scanning the Great Hall to figure out what Gilbert was gesturing at.

* * *

Harry left Neville sorting chocolate frogs cards with the first years in the common room, a brand new copy of his own card tucked safely in his top pocket. They were animatedly searching every collection in the castle; it seemed, for one of Harry – on the off chance that someone had missed it. As he climbed the steps to his dormitory, Harry pondered the way Professor Thistlewaite had visibly started when Harry looked at him during the welcome back feast. The Transfiguration teacher had dropped his napkin and then his fork before finally fleeing the Great Hall well before dessert was finished. It had been some time since he had startled the professor like that. Harry hoped he wouldn't behave oddly in Transfiguration again. He'd gotten used to the man ignoring him.

Entering his dormitory, Harry wondered what to do with himself while he waited up for Ginny. Having asked Neville to let Ginny know where he was and that he had something to talk to her about, Harry hoped she'd be there soon so they could discuss the problem he'd inadvertently created. He'd actually been so dedicated to avoiding his dilemma on the train that he'd finished all his homework. He threw himself on his bed and sighed loudly. It was still early and no one else was in the room yet.

After staring at the canopy of his four-poster for a few minutes Harry's eyes drifted to the picture of his parents in the frame that he kept on his bedside table that Ginny had made him for Christmas. He watched as his dad slipped and arm around his fiancée and his mother in the photograph, the ring sparkling on his mother's finger in the Muggle photo next to it. Harry had a sudden urge to examine the contents of the little chest he'd brought back from Gringotts on one of his trips to his vault. He'd been so busy lately that he'd never had time to investigate it beyond a few scattered photos that lay on the top.

Flipping himself upside down and peering under his bed, Harry pushed aside a pair of dress shoes, banished a tie to the laundry and pulled out a cardboard box. He frowned at the box filled with Sirius's things and shoved it back under the bed, casting _Lumos_ to scan for the chest. It had been pushed well under the bed, near the head and Harry had to summon it before he could drag it out. It had been there several months and Harry coughed a little as he disturbed the dust that coated it. He tried using a spell he'd seen Molly use when cleaning the sitting room but only created a bigger cloud of dust. Instead he settled for conjuring a feather duster and cleaning it the Muggle way. As he traced the carving on the outside, Harry felt guilty that he'd left it there so long and not really paid attention to its contents.

He knew it was full of photographs but he'd only had a brief look inside, for all he knew it had ancient family recipes scrawled in some spidery script and splattered with cooking stains or gold and jewels at the bottom. Hesitantly, Harry lifted the catch and levered up the lid.

He tentatively lifted out a handful of photographs. They'd once been tied in bundles or wrapped in paper packages, but the brown paper was torn and some of the string had frayed, leaving a mixture of different sized photographs lying on the top and shoved down the sides. Harry peered at the first photograph he separated from the pile clutched in his hands. It was a wizarding photograph of a little boy. His pudgy hands reached out to bigger, adult arms as he struggled to stand. The baby squealed as the arms caught him up, tickling him. Harry knew the baby was him and he shuffled through the rest of the photos clutched in his hands.

There was the same baby eating something mushy from a spoon, sleeping contentedly in a tiny cradle, pulling himself up on the bars of a cot, sitting all rugged up in a pram. Harry stared in wonder at the sheer number of pictures his parents had taken of him. There were pictures of him with his father, with his mother, more of him riding the toy broomstick Sirius had given him for his first birthday. Harry's breath caught as he reached into the chest again and found a pile of photos of Sirius cradling his baby godson against his chest. Harry guessed he was barely weeks old in the photographs. Sirius's eyes shone with pride and he and Harry's father beamed at the camera in one shot that Harry could tell had been taken at Hogwarts.

Harry let the photos fall to his bedspread as he dug into the chest, unearthing more and more treasures of wedding photos, pictures of his grandparents, some of James and Sirius as teenagers and several of his mother, dressed in clothes he knew had been the fashion in the 1970s. There were pictures of Remus and Lily studying; of Sirius and Wormtail horsing around in the Gryffindor common room; of James showing off on his broomstick, dressed in old-fashioned Quidditch robes. Harry laughed as he found photos of his father with his hair sticking up at all angles, his new adult teeth too big for his mouth and knobbly knees poking out from below baggy shorts.

It wasn't until Harry got to near the bottom of the chest, having pulled out masses of photographs of his father as a child, and a teen, and the first pictures his father must have had of his mother, that he found the little box. The bottom of the chest was littered with Muggle postcards, covered with glossy coloured pictures on one side and his mother's careful, neat script in the other. Nestled amongst them was the tiny box. The postcards were from all over Europe – pictures of the Eiffel Tower, the Coliseum, various Greek ruins, fountains, arches and rivers. Harry pulled some of the postcards out, weighing the box in one hand and flipping the postcards over with the other. They were all dated in the summer of 1977.

_Dearest, Italy is no fun without you. I wish I was spending the summer with you although the art here is wonderful … My Dear James, I'll be home soon and I can't wait to see you! Greece is so warm and peaceful … Dearest James, I love you and miss you, kisses from Paris. I can't wait until we come home …_ All of the postcards were signed _All my love, Lily._ There were no stamps on them and Harry guessed that his mother had Owled all of these postcards to his father.

Harry felt an undeniable ache in his chest, a longing to know more about the things his mother had done and the dreams his father had. All he knew were a few bits and pieces about what his father looked like as a child and that his mother had been on a European holiday before her seventh year. Harry sighed as he sat amongst the treasure trove now littering his bed. He gazed at the faces in the pictures hungrily as he played with the box in his hands.

Its smooth edges were marred by a tiny clasp and his fingers played with it as he read the back of a series of postcards from Spain. It sprang open under his touch and Harry looked down in surprise. He could tell it was a magical musical jewellery box because there had been no key to turn and wind up the little music barrel and yet the little dancer in this jewellery box was spinning as the tinkling notes of a simple tune wafted into the still dormitory. Harry had never heard the tune, yet it sounded comforting, familiar. Harry listened to it for a moment, mesmerised as he watched the dancer twirl.

His gaze dropped to the bottom of the box where he saw a soft, velvet pouch. Harry reached into the box and drew the little pouch out. He put the box down on the bed and opened up the pouch, tipping the contents into his hand. Three rings jangled as they landed in his palm. They were made of gold which shone in the candlelight of the dormitory. A diamond sparkled brilliantly on one of them. Harry touched the rings reverently, knowing what they were; knowing the ring with the diamond was the one he saw on his mother's finger in the engagement photos he kept by his bed.

Harry looked at the music box, still playing its tinkling melody and stroked the rings with his thumb as they lay in his palm. Slowly Harry picked up the diamond ring and held it up, watching as the facets reflected the dim light of his bedside candle.

"When Neville said you wanted to talk to me about something … I didn't think it was … this …" Ginny's amused voice floated across the dorm and Harry swore and dropped the rings. They bounced across the bed and the diamond engagement ring fell to the floor with a tiny clatter and rolled under his bed.

Harry dived to retrieve it, sliding on the photographs as he did so and somersaulting off the bed, landing with a thump on the floor rug. He banged his right elbow, left knee and forehead and just lay there, groaning as several of the photographs fluttered onto the floor around him.

"Harry!" Ginny was bending over him in an instant, her concerned face peering at him and her soft hands feeling his head. "Are you all right?"

"I hit my head," Harry said pitifully. Ginny's fingers probed his skull and he winced as she encountered a particularly painful knot on the back of his head. He sat up gingerly; the two wedding rings clutched in his hand and rubbed at the back of his head ruefully. Harry searched for his wand. "You startled me."

His hand closed over his wand on the edge of his bed and Harry cast a light underneath his bed. He swept it in an arc, searching amongst the dust and odd socks for the precious glinting jewel.

"_Accio Engagement ring_," Ginny muttered from beside him and suddenly there it was in her hand. She held it out to him on her open palm. Harry froze, looking at the ring as it lay there innocently. He swallowed heavily before looking up at her. She was smiling at him and nodded her head slightly in the direction of her palm. "I'm sorry I startled you."

"How did you … you knew it was an engagement ring?"

"It's your mother's," Ginny said softly. "I always wondered if it was in your vault somewhere."

"Wedding rings too," Harry said, opening the hand that clutched at the gold bands. Ginny stared at them for a moment before she cupped her hand and started to tip the diamond ring into his palm.

"Wait," Harry said. He dropped his wand and reached out, closing his hand over hers, enclosing the ring in her fist. As he stared at their joined hands Harry felt like a right idiot because he had no idea what made him do that.

"Don't you want to put them back in the music box together?"

Suddenly Harry was aware that the music box was still playing. It was tipped on its side and leaning drunkenly on the edge of his bed, but the little dancer still danced and the music flowed over him.

"I know that music," Harry whispered. He let go of her hand and plucked the music box off the bed, turning it the right way up. He tipped the gold wedding bands into the box. "I don't know what tune it is, but I know it – it makes me feel safe." Ginny opened her fist above the music box.

"It was probably your mother's," she said as she tilted her hand. Harry shot out a hand to stop her.

"No," he whispered, his hand circling her wrist. The ring lay on her palm, shining brilliantly in the light still emanating from the tip of his wand.

"No?" Ginny echoed, looking up at him.

"Keep it," Harry breathed.

"Harry – I …" Ginny shook her head slightly. "It's very valuable and-"

"Keep it," he pleaded. Ginny closed her eyes and shook her head.

"But … why …" she trailed off.

"Marry me," Harry whispered, barely audible over the tinkling notes from the music box still clutched in his other hand. Ginny sucked in a breath and her fingers flexed, the ring bouncing off and into the music box. Harry stared at it as the music kept playing. Ginny's fingers clenched into a fist and Harry clung to her wrist. He could feel her pulse beating, erratic and fast.

"What?"

"I – I – I didn't _plan_ to do that," Harry said, staring at the ring. "It just … I wanted …"

"Well," Ginny said briskly, "no worries then-"

"I mean it."

Ginny was silent, her trembling hand still clutched in a fist. Harry tore his eyes away from his mother's engagement ring lying innocently in the bottom of the music box and looked at her. She still had her eyes closed and Harry could see her biting the inside of her cheek. Eventually she raised her gaze to his.

"I – I don't know," she whispered. Harry's mind went blank and he released her wrist. She didn't know? Wasn't this something they always spoke of? Something they both dreamed? Harry shut the music box with a snap and the music cut off abruptly.

"Okay," he managed to choke out. Harry sat staring at the box cradled in his hands.

"Harry-"

"Don't." Harry closed his eyes, his fingers convulsing around the box. He mentally kicked his subconscious and its pitiful, woeful timing. This was _not_ the way to solve his dilemma. And it was entirely unromantic to summon your own engagement ring from a pile of questionably hygienic socks under a bed in a Hogwarts dormitory.

"Oh bollocks," Ginny breathed. Her soft hands closed over his and Harry trembled, entirely unable to pull away however much he wanted to run. "Harry, I wasn't expecting … I was taking the mickey before, when I came in. We didn't talk about it and …"

"It's okay," Harry said mechanically. "It was a stupid idea anyway. I don't know what made me say it." He put the box on his bed and began gathering up the photographs that had spilled onto the floor. Ginny watched him for a moment before she put a hand over his, stilling his movements.

"I do," she whispered. "I know what made you say it."

"No, you really don't," Harry said, "or you would have slapped me by now." He cursed inwardly and looked up at her. Ginny wore a frown

"Why would I do that when you just proposed?"

"Yes, very romantic I was, too," Harry muttered.

"Don't talk rubbish." Ginny rolled her eyes at him and Harry took a deep breath.

"I may have inadvertently given your mother the idea that …" Harry trailed off, suddenly sensing it was a good idea to put some distance between him and Ginny before he confessed. He scrambled to his feet and began pacing, trying to figure out the best way to approach the topic. Ginny watched as he shuffled a few steps towards his bed and back again to where she sat.

"Given her the idea that what?" Ginny followed his every move as he paced over to the window and stared out into the night sky.

"Charlie was teasing me," Harry said softly. "I've been trying to think of a way to break it to you-"

"You're running off with Charlie?" Ginny was smirking at him now, he could tell.

"No," Harry sighed, "and I'm not running off with the lead singer form the Lone Witches or the cellist from the Weird Sisters, either-"

"Well, that's a relief."

"Ginny …" Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and spun to face her. "I sort of … maybe … kind of … left your mother with the impression that … we're'ngaged."

"What?" Ginny's face was a blank mask. "Why?" And then the dam broke and Harry began to babble.

"I kind of blurted out that I was going to marry a Harpies Chaser – well not any Harpies Chaser because I'm _not _marrying her. I meant you, if you got on the team that is, and I don't even know if you got on the team and instead of asking you if you got on the team I dropped your engagement ring – only I didn't know it was your engagement ring because it _wasn't_ when I was holding it, I only realised it was after I dropped it and _you_ were holding it and I didn't mean to ask you and I swear I didn't know I was thinking of the fact that your mother's planning our engagement party and looking for spells to make love-heart cakes. I thought I was just thinking that I wanted to marry you and I wanted to put the ring on your finger instead of in the box only I think it must have been because Hermione says I have to find a way out of this, because if Molly tells you what I did, before I tell you what I did, you're going to kill me, only I think I did just tell you what I did before Molly did so I should be … safe …"

Ginny giggled.

"I sound like bloody Gilbert," Harry moaned, leaning against the wall and thumping his head lightly. He made contact with the bump he'd created earlier. "Ouch."

"Harry …" Ginny stood up and walked towards him. He eyed her warily. "I don't think you asked me because you appear to have given my mother the impression that she … needs to order engraved invitations and organise a celebrant."

"Well, what made me do something so ridiculously stupid then?" Harry demanded.

"It wasn't stupid," Ginny said. "It was sweet; and surprising – very surprising. And it was romantic – look, candlelight …" Harry rolled his eyes.

"I'm sorry I messed up your proposal," Harry said softly. "Let's forget I ever did this. I'll plan it properly next time and I'll even get you a proper ring-"

"Yes," Ginny said, cutting him off.

"Yes?" Harry repeated dumbly.

"I'm sorry I messed up the answer," Ginny said softly, "and I don't care what Mum thinks or if Charlie's going to be disappointed I stole you away from him and this _is_ the proper ring."

"Yes?" Harry stared at her.

"Yes, Harry," Ginny said softly. "I know I messed it up before because I never, ever planned to say anything but yes and then you surprised me and I couldn't find the words and it was your mother's ring and that is such an honour and I wasn't expecting it especially on top of such a great weekend and … bloody hell, now _I_ sound like Gilbert!"

Harry kissed her. And she clung to him until Harry broke off the kiss, laughing.

"Yes?" he whispered. Ginny nodded, smiling. Grabbing her hand, Harry dragged her back over to his bed and snatched up the box. Fumbling with the clasp he opened up the box and fished the ring out again. Slowly he slid the ring onto her finger and kissed her, holding her hand in one of his own and pulling her close with the other.

"Harry?" Ginny ventured some time later as they lay entwined on his bed, the photographs haphazardly piled back in the chest and the music box still playing it's soft, tinkling tune. Harry hummed wordlessly against her neck. "I did make the Harpies, by the way."

* * *

"Did you write to your mother?" Hermione asked, the next day as Harry and Ginny studied in a quiet corner of the common room. Ginny looked up.

"About what, Hermione?" she asked. Hermione summoned a chair and dropped into it, leaning forward.

"About … you know … Harry – did you tell her?"

"Yeah," Harry muttered, scowling at the potions book in front of him.

"Oh! That!" Ginny exclaimed. "Oh, that's all sorted out, Hermione. Everything's fine."

"Well, I'm glad you straightened it out," Hermione said, settling back in the chair. "I hope she wasn't too disappointed. You two have been scarce today … did you skip Muggle Studies? I didn't se either of you at lunch and honestly Harry – skipping Defence Against the Dark Arts? You're supposed to supervise it!"

"I'm sure Neville did fine," Harry said.

"He did, but that's not the point," Hermione huffed. "I'm sure that nasty burn he got during Herbology was bothering him."

"If he forgets his Dragonhide gloves …" Ginny offered, shrugging. "The rest of us remembered them."

"Odd, isn't it," Hermione mused. "He's been very scatterbrained lately."

"I'm sure it's nothing serious," Ginny said with a smirk.

"He's writing notes to Hannah at all hours of the day and night," Harry added with a wink. "I think I know what has him scattered."

"So," Hermione said meaningfully, staring at the two of them. "Apart from Potions where you were both _late_ and had to take the last table at the back, and Herbology where we battled fire-breathing dragon snaps, I haven't seen you at all."

"Well, we've been here," Harry said innocently. "You must be studying too hard. You should take a day off."

"You're up to something, Harry Potter," Hermione said, her eyes narrowed.

"My, my, you're very suspicious, Hermione Granger," Harry replied.

"I know that look," Hermione said. "You've got a secret."

"And I was thinking no one knew I'd gotten Teddy a broomstick for his birthday," Harry said. Hermione glared at him.

"Put her out of her misery, Harry," Ginny said with a giggle.

"She'd find out tomorrow morning anyway," Harry said with a shrug.

"You two are maddening," Hermione grumbled.

"_Everybody_ will find out tomorrow morning," Ginny pointed out archly. "Don't you think it would be nice if she found out first?"

"She wouldn't be the first," Harry argued. "We spent all day in the Owlery writing letters to your family-"

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed faintly. "Is _that_ where you've been? I thought … well …"

"Thought we were shaggin' all day didya?"

"Ginny!" Harry blushed and snapped his book shut.

"Sorry," Ginny said, not looking at all contrite. Harry just glowered at her. "Awww, come on Harry, don't be cross at me." She batted her eyelids ridiculously and Harry laughed.

"What is going on?" Hermione demanded. Harry looked up. Hermione looked decidedly unimpressed. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was glaring at the two of them.

"Hermione," Harry said, straightening up and pushing his glasses up his nose. "We had something really important to do today and we did have the Headmistress's permission to skip Defence this afternoon so please don't be upset with us-"

"If you don't tell me what is going on right this minute-"

"We got engaged, Hermione," Ginny broke in softly. "We spent every spare minute today writing to Mum and Dad and my brothers."

"You got what?" Hermione's jaw dropped.

"And this afternoon we got permission from McGonagall to go and make the official announcement to _The Daily Prophet_," Ginny continued calmly. "It's not something … well if he wasn't Harry, I doubt we'd have more than two lines on the last page but, well this is kinda front page news." She grimaced slightly before shrugging, looking at Hermione expectantly.

"But … you said …" Hermione stared at Harry. "I'm … surprised."

"So am I," Harry said simply. Hermione was motionless but for her eyes as they flicked back and forth between the two of them. Ginny chewed her lip nervously and watched Hermione.

"Don't you … isn't this a bit …" Hermione stumbled and stuttered before taking a deep breath. "Is this because of what Charlie said, because don't you think you are a bit young?"

"No," Harry said shortly. "My parents were younger, so were Ginny's."

"Is it because _The Prophet_ keeps hooking you up with random females?" Hermione asked. "Because if this is some ridiculous idea to make them stop-"

"Hermione," Harry interrupted. "A little credit, please. I admit it wasn't the most romantic thing I've ever done – heck, I wouldn't know how to be romantic if I had individualised lessons from Cupid himself –but I'm not that stupid."

"It wasn't romantic?" Hermione glared at Harry and Ginny giggled.

"Come on, Hermione, this is me!" Harry threw his hands up in exasperation. "I dropped the ring under my bed and Ginny had to summon it and then I asked her when I didn't mean to ask her and she said no when she meant to say yes and-"

"What ring?" Hermione interrupted him before swinging to Ginny. "Wait – you said _no_?"

"I said I _don't know_," Ginny said with a wry smile.

"Anyway, that's all sorted out now," Harry dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I wasn't thinking any of all that when I asked and we've always planned this and I had the ring and it just …" He shrugged.

"You're right," Hermione said bluntly. "You are not romantic _at all_."

"It's his mother's ring," Ginny said softly, extending her left hand.

"Oh, it's beautiful," Hermione grabbed Ginny's hand and practically pulled her out of the chair. "How romantic!"

"I thought you just said I wasn't romantic?" Harry smirked at her.

"You're not, this is just a coincidence," Hermione said with a smile before she launched herself at him, enveloping him in a hug. Ginny squawked as Hermione tangled her hand up in their embrace. Detangling themselves Hermione smiled at Ginny. "Your mother is going to be so thrilled."

"I hope she's as thrilled with the wait to the wedding," Ginny said. "It'll be a couple of years before we actually get married."

"Oh, don't be silly," Hermione dismissed with a wave of her hand. "That just gives her more time to prepare – she'll be over the moon." The two girls dissolved into giggles and Harry just shook his head wryly at them as Hermione sighed over the ring again.

It might not have been how he'd planned it and maybe they were young, but right then Harry thought nothing could burst his bubble of happiness.

*****************

Harry darted into Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and closed the door behind him, peering out at the street, making sure he'd ditched her.

"Um, can I help you?" George's voice was amused. Harry spun around.

"George, hide me, please!"

"Sorry, mate I'm an inventor and a shopkeeper, I don't do espionage anymore."

Harry stared at him before he realised he was still wearing the hasty appearance charm he'd cast when Molly had been engrossed in the cookbook section at Flourish and Blotts. With an impatient wave of his wand he reversed it, peering out again at the street. Molly Weasley was wearing a frown and walking towards the shop purposefully, clutching a book of fabric swatches that looked like tablecloths. Harry ducked.

"Are you going to hide me or not?" He glared at George who looked out the window and started laughing.

"Bert's upstairs with Angelina," Jonathon's amused voice came from the doorway to the steps that led to the flat above the shop. "She's itching to see you. You go on up and we'll head this one off." He jerked his head towards the street.

Harry shot him a grateful look and scrambled hastily for the stairs. George's laughter echoed behind him. Harry spilled into the flat moments later to be greeted by Bert's cheerful laughter.

"Could play footy, this one!" She was sitting on the couch one hand on Angelina's stomach and laughing. Angelina was smiling at her. Neither of them saw Harry until Bert looked up. "Oh Harry! Good to see ya! Come 'ere and feel this!"

"Er …"

"Oh don't be shy, ya great daft galah!" Bert jumped up and pulled him over to the couch, putting his open palm on Angelina's stomach where hers had been moments before. The baby kicked against his palm sharply and Harry's eyes widened. "Amazing innit?"

"Yeah," Harry said softly. He cleared his throat, pulling his hand away uncomfortable with the close contact. Angelina smiled at him ruefully and he shrugged. "When did you get here, Bert?"

"Yest'day," she replied. "Jonathon's staying for a while and we reckoned we could make a bit of a honeymoon of it. One weekend in Tassie is pretty dismal. Oh hey, I was about to make a cuppa – you want one?" She sprang up and looked expectantly at him. Harry shook his head and Bert darted into the tiny kitchen and began banging things. Angelina shook her head.

"She's … enthusiastic," Harry offered.

"She's been great," Angelina said softly. "Jonathon was sleeping on the couch because … well Fred's room isn't, but she … pushed things along." Angelina sighed.

"How's George doing?"

"Better," Angelina allowed. "He was real quiet for a couple days but I think he's working through it. Jonathon doesn't let him wallow, you know. He and I … we had a, sort of a chat." Angelina twisted the sleeve of her robes, gazing at the floor.

"What about?" Harry prompted.

"Well," Angelina looked up. "I think we got George through his birthday but … he woke up that night screaming about … _that_ day …" She swallowed heavily. "He wouldn't talk about it and he went downstairs and started making trick wands or something. It was four o'clock in the morning. Jonathon said he'd stay because … because I don't think I can do this, either. I'm a mess and the last thing I can do is help George when …" Angelina trailed off and started crying. Harry just looked at her in alarm.

"Hey!" Bert cried, entering the room with a steaming cup of tea. "I told you to stop wastin' water like that!" Angelina laughed and hiccupped. Bert handed Angelina the cup of tea and threw herself on the couch. "Now, are we gunna design this baby room or what? Not that I want to sleep in some pastel-coloured room of vomit now that we finally got George to ease up and open the damn door. I thought he'd never give that room up. It's a good thing Jonathon's so bloody pigheaded. So, you reckon it's a boy – we could ditch the pink but … maybe lemon or … mint?" Bert looked dubious.

"Pastels?" Angelina screwed up her nose. "George would hex me! I'm thinking electric blue-"

"Oh! Jungle theme!"

"Do we need to encourage the child to behave like a monkey?" The two of them fell about giggling and Harry left them to it, slipping out of the flat and down the stairs back into the shop hoping Molly was gone. If his choices were between nursery décor and tablecloth swatches, he'd take the one without the stomach touching.

Mercifully the joke shop was empty. Not even George and Jonathon were evident. Harry wandered to the counter, peering out of the window. There was a newspaper stand opposite the shop and Harry grimaced as he realised the stand was still plastered with pictures from the previous day's _Prophet_.

Ginny had been radiant all day, accepting congratulations from her fellow classmates from the moment the news of their engagement had broken over breakfast as the morning post owls trickled in. Harry on the other hand had tried to hide all day, gritting his teeth and moving between his classes, finally fleeing before lunch and holing himself up in Hagrid's hut with Dora. Ginny had come to find him after her Double Arthimancy class and dragged him into the Great Hall for tea, laughing at his disgruntled face. As soon as Potions was finished on Friday morning Harry had left Hogwarts and fled to The Burrow for the weekend. It was Teddy's birthday and Ginny had to spend the weekend catching up on the homework she missed over Easter while she was in Wales. Molly had insisted on dragging him out after lunch to look at various engagement party related things and Harry had been unable to move three steps without being congratulated by random strangers.

Harry sighed as he stared at the full page photograph of him and Ginny littering the news stand and surrounding walls. As much as he was trying to hide from the world, he didn't relish the fact that he wouldn't see her for two days. The Ginny in the photograph smiled at the photographer and Harry wondered if it really was just two days ago that he'd proposed. He shook his head at himself, still amazed that he'd gone and gotten himself _engaged_.

And he didn't regret it one bit.

As he gazed out the window, wondering where George and Jonathon had gone, he nearly missed the cat that was sitting on the curb. It was washing its paws contentedly but Harry could have sworn that a moment ago it had been watching the shop. Harry frowned. It looked like Professor Fiesche's cat, but considering every cat looked the same to him, Harry just shrugged and laughed at himself for thinking that a cat was actually watching the shop. Harry checked his watch and, figuring he had some time before Teddy went to bed for the night, Disapparated to Andromeda's house.

"That's some big news you let out this week." Andromeda greeted him with a smile and let go of Teddy as the little boy launched himself at Harry with a squeal.

"Hey Teddy," Harry murmured as his godson patted his cheeks. Teddy bounced in Harry's arms and squirmed, clawing at Harry's sleeves and trying to get down. Harry set him carefully on the floor and Teddy grabbed Harry's trouser legs.

"Up!" Teddy turned his little face up and tugged harder.

"He just asked to be picked up," Harry said in wonder. Andromeda beamed.

"It was his first word," she said proudly. "He's been saying it the last week or so." Teddy let go of Harry's trouser legs and sat down with a thump.

"Bah!" proclaimed Teddy, looking up at Harry and reached his arms skyward. "Up! Harwee!" Harry's jaw fell open.

"I'm distraught," Andromeda said dryly. "He's never said Gran." Harry laughed and swung Teddy up into his arms, tossing him in the air.

"You can say my name," Harry said in wonder as Teddy squealed and grabbed at his hair on the way back down as Harry cuddled him close.

"He started saying it yesterday," Andromeda said as Teddy turned his hair black.

"I'm surprised you can say my name, little man," Harry said, nuzzling Teddy's cheek. "I'm not here very much …"

"I talk about you," Andromeda said, scooping up some of the toys that littered the sitting room floor with her wand. She sighed. "I have to talk about something and … I figure he should know about you."

"Da!" Teddy said, grabbing handful of Harry's cheek and pulling. Harry winced and muttered to Teddy to be careful.

"So," Andromeda said as she levitated the toys into a large chest in the corner of the room. "You're a bit newsworthy this week, then?"

"I bet no one's interested in my godson being able to talk are they?" Harry said, swinging Teddy into the air again.

"Yes, well you didn't put a diamond on his finger, did you?" Andromeda asked wryly. Harry smiled at her sheepishly.

"Well …"

"If you're going to play with him like that," Andromeda said, turning to go into the kitchen, "take him outside in the garden so I don't worry you'll bang his head on the ceiling. There's still plenty of light left before tea and it's a lovely afternoon."

"Okay!" Harry called, heading for the front door, scooping up the package that was Teddy's birthday present on the way. As he reached the door Andromeda poked her head into the hallway.

"And mind you don't let him fly higher than a foot on that broomstick!"

"How did you-"

"You are your father's son and Sirius Black's godson, Mr Potter," Andromeda said winking at him and she ducked back into the kitchen before Harry could say a word. Harry looked down at Teddy who was chewing on the end of the package.

"Well, Teddy," he said, pulling the package out of the baby's mouth, "time for your first flying lesson."

"Ya!" Teddy said, banging the package.

Teddy fell off no less than three times in the first half an hour. Every time he fell to the lawn with a soft thump he looked up at Harry, surprised.

"Maybe I'm teaching you wrong," Harry muttered, picking Teddy up for the fourth time. He grabbed the instructions and scanned them again. "Levitate … cast stabilising charm … hover … hmmmm it looks right, and I don't think this is because your mum was clumsy – because she was wicked on a broom … levitate …"

"Mumumum!" chanted Teddy as he picked up the end of the broom and banged it repeatedly on the ground. Harry watched him with one eye while he scanned the instructions again. Suddenly Teddy squealed, and abandoning the broomstick, began crawling towards the edge of the lawn. Harry looked up, wondering what had caught Teddy's eye. The gate was shut and Teddy couldn't leave the small grassed area so Harry looked back down at the instructions.

"Stabilising charm … maybe I need a different stabilising charm …" Harry's musings were cut off by the unholy squeal of a cat, followed by a vicious hiss and Teddy's cry of alarm. Harry looked up to see a large cat backing away from Teddy. Harry stared, it looked like the same cat that he'd seen in Diagon Alley, next to the news stand, and it still bore an uncanny resemblance to Fiesche's cat.

Teddy was crying in earnest now as the cat sat on its haunches and gazed at them. Harry tried to shoo the cat away but it remained steadfast, staring at Teddy and Harry.

"You daft cat," Harry muttered, scooping Teddy up. He backed to the door, collecting the broomstick on his way. The cat never stopped watching him. It made Harry nervous. He shook his head as he shut the door. It was a sign that he was stressed if he thought a cat was after him.

Saturday dragged as Harry found himself subjected to Molly's ramblings about balloon colours and fairy lights. He was thrilled when Arthur rescued him after lunch and the two of them spent an amiable afternoon pottering about in Arthur's shed, trying to piece an electric wok back together. Harry left The Burrow on Saturday evening, unable to stand being away from Ginny a moment longer.

"You're going to have to get used to it," Ginny said as they sat together in the common room on Sunday night. "I'll be in Wales a lot the next couple of years."

"I can Apparate," Harry murmured, pulling her closer. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"You'll be in London a lot," she pointed out. "You know, being an Auror." Harry frowned at her.

"She has a point," Hermione said, looking up from her book. "We will be in London-"

"Will _we_?" Harry asked. "Decided on a career have we, Miss Granger?" Hermione had been surprisingly tight-lipped about her plans following the end of their school year. She often seemed preoccupied with something but Harry had given up trying to decipher the notes she scrawled hastily from dusty old books or trying to convince her to tell him what she was working on.

"Erm … well ..." Hermione shifted awkwardly, fidgeting with her quill. "I got a letter of offer … for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. They liked my werewolf legislation draft-"

"You drafted werewolf legislation?" Harry sat up abruptly. "When?"

"Probably when you've been off snogging or playing Quidditch or something," Hermione said.

"Hey, that's not fair!" Harry protested. Hermione sighed.

"I know it's not, I'm sorry." She shuffled her feet a little. "I just … I had to do _something_. Ron isn't here very often and you're busy a lot and … well … I think I'm used to a little more excitement." She shrugged ruefully.

"So … you drafted an entire piece of legislation?"

"Well … yes," Hermione nodded. "I mean they've been treated so badly for so long and Merlin knows Moses Brown wasn't making things any better, was he? I just … I wanted to make sure, you know, that we tightened up all the loop holes. If this is enacted, well Bill and Fleur should be clear to have children. I mean there's no earthly evidence to suggest Bill is at all dangerous and it'll keep Teddy safe. So … they've asked me to start there in the summer. I'll be in London – working at the Ministry, with you."

"That's brilliant, Hermione – so you've really got a job?" Ginny asked, leaning forward. Hermione nodded. "It feels a bit grown up, doesn't it?"

"I've felt grown up for a while," Harry remarked wryly before they all burst out laughing.

The month of April marched on relentlessly, bringing them closer to the beginning of May. Jonathon and Bert stayed with George and Angelina, designing a nursery and helping George function as the anniversary of Fred's death loomed. Molly sent letters every other day with ideas for celebrating Harry and Ginny's engagement and Hermes made regular visits to the Ravenclaw table at breakfast. Gilbert set up a Chocolate Frog Card Club and soon the first and second years from every House took over the Great Hall several nights a week, swapping cards and spending several hours together helping each other with homework.

Harry felt like he was watching all this through a distant lens as he began to wake at night again, drenched in sweat, wondering exactly what was in his dreams that was making him feel like he'd run a marathon when he awoke, breathing heavily. He knew it was just the looming anniversary of that dreadful and wonderful day, but he'd never been quite so unable to put his finger on the uneasiness he felt. So he threw himself into Quidditch training and his homework, praying he could just make it through the next few weeks.


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50. Anniversary**

Harry kicked idly at the wall opposite the entrance to Professor McGonagall's office. He knew why she'd asked to see him, the anniversary of what _The Daily Prophet_ had coined 'The Final Battle' was just days away and thus far Harry had not been told of any plans concerning it's commemoration. He hadn't asked either, because he did not want to know. He suspected that there would be a ceremony or some other such tedious event in which he'd be expected to participate. No doubt this was what Professor McGonagall wanted to see him about. Taking a deep breath, unable to put it off any longer, Harry marched up to the gargoyles.

"Ginger Newt," he grumbled to the gargoyles. They glared at him as the staircase slowly revolved, taking Harry upwards and to the Headmistress's door.

"Ah, Potter," Professor McGonagall called as she looked up to see Harry hovering in the open doorway. Her office was crammed with people and Harry hoped his face did not show the annoyance he felt. He forced a smile hesitantly as several faces whipped around and stared at him.

"Harry!" Kingsley's voice boomed, reverberating throughout the circular office. Harry raised a hand in greeting as he edged into the room. The murmur of voices and the whisper of rustling parchment did not stop as Harry took several tentative steps around the curved wall towards Kingsley. He had not gone very far when Percy suddenly materialised in front of him with an exceptionally long parchment and one of his beige quills.

"Most of the speakers are set," Percy murmured, scanning his parchment. "Now would you like to go last or next to last? We could always put Milton Burbank at the end; no one actually cares about his pontificating."

"Last for what?" Harry asked, eyeing a wizard in a set of bright red robes who was approaching with a rather animated purple measuring tape.

"Speeches of course," Percy muttered, scribbling furiously on the parchment.

"Who's Milton Burbank?" Harry had a sinking feeling that Percy was expecting _him _to give a speech. Harry wondered idly what would happen if he refused to do so before he sighed and resigned himself to doing this sort of thing for the foreseeable future. He didn't like it but he wasn't completely insensible of the facts surrounding his fame. As the end of the school year drew closer Harry was thinking more and more about how he'd have to actually face everything head-on once the train pulled into Kings Cross. Some days he felt ready to take on the world. Other days he felt no older than the scared eleven year old who dragged his trunk into the railway station eight years ago.

Harry scanned the room while Percy muttered and scribbled on his parchment. The number of people present indicated a complex event, the likes of which would probably make Harry scowl a lot. The wizard in red robes smiled brightly as he approached. Before Harry could say a word, the purple measuring tape suddenly sprang out of the hands of the red-robed wizard and wrapped itself around Harry's head. He grunted and jerked away.

"Mr Potter, sir, please stay still!" The red-robed wizard panted breathlessly as he scrambled for the end of the measuring tape. "If you move too much it could strangle you! I can't say I would want to be responsible for that!"

"It would make a terrible headline," muttered a dark-haired, spotty-faced witch from behind Percy. "Can you imagine the mourning?"

"The morning? It'd be in the _evening_ paper," retorted the wizard grabbing for his measuring tape.

"It's not going to be in _any_ paper," Percy said authoritatively. "I'll thank you _not_ to decapitate the keynote speaker!"

Harry glared darkly at Percy who totally ignored him, still scribbling on his parchment furiously. The red-robed wizard finally tugged the measuring tape free of Harry's head and the spotty-faced witch thrust a sheaf of parchment at Harry. He clutched at the parchment convulsively, crumpling several of the pieces and peering at them curiously.

"That's yer paperwork," said the witch. "Somewhere around here that idiot's got yer speech. Wouldn't let me near it, that slimy little toad. I don't know how I'm supposed to do me job if he won't even give me half 'is co-operation." Harry just stared at her in confusion.

"Or would you like to be first?" Percy mused, batting the measuring tape way from Harry with the ugly, beige quill.

"Er, no," Harry said, eyeing the purple measuring tape. "Not first, I don't want to be first."

"Excellent!" Percy exclaimed. "We'll go with last then. Good to see you, Harry. Pass on my regard to Ginny." And then Percy was gone, leaving Harry with the wizard in red robes, the spotty-faced witch staring at him, and the purple measuring tape creeping up his inseam. The witch was making him nervous and the red-robed wizard was eyeing him speculatively.

"I'm sorry," Harry croaked, groping for the end of the measuring tape and flushing crimson. "I'm not sure …"

"Oh good!" Kingsley boomed as he came up behind Harry and slapped him on the back. "I see Clint has measured you up and Beth has found you! You'll get the robes tomorrow and try and get those forms back to me by the end of the week."

"What?" Harry asked blankly, forgetting about the measuring tape which immediately began to wind itself around his neck.

"This is Clint. He makes the Auror's robes," Kingsley said, gesturing at the red-robed wizard. "You'll need them for the service. The people expect to see you in uniform!"

"But … I've got a uniform," Harry said, gesturing at his Hogwarts robes. The witch – Beth – rolled her eyes at him.

"Not a school uniform, an Auror uniform – now that it's been officially announced and all," she said matter-of-factly, tapping the sheaf of parchment in his arms. Harry clutched at it convulsively.

"Er, what?"

"Don't you read the paper?" Beth asked him, eyebrow raised. "Official announcement of you being an Auror was made last week. Course, it wasn't as big news as your engagement. Caused a stir _that_ did." Harry tugged at the measuring tape which unwound from his neck and began stretching out along his arms.

"There was an official announcement?" Harry questioned Kingsley. "What for?" Kingsley stared at him in amazement for a moment before he sighed and began muttering about Harry being dense. Harry frowned at him, batting away the measuring tape which was curling around his waist.

"There are never new Auror recruit announcements," Harry pointed out sharply. Kingsley looked at Harry and rolled his eyes.

"Never mind," Kingsley said brusquely as the purple tape measure finally uncurled itself from Harry and leapt towards the red-robed wizard who grabbed at it and scurried away. "Come and meet Marvin and Patricia Wifflebatten, they designed the new fountain and will be opening the ceremonies-"

"I have no idea what is going on!" Harry said desperately, squinting at the parchment in his arms as he stumbled after Kingsley. The Minister ignored him, instead greeting a large man effusively. He had salt and pepper hair and a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles sat on the end of his nose. He was standing with an elegantly dressed woman who had her hair twisted up in an elaborate knot on the top of her head.

"I'm so glad you like the design," the man boomed. "It's been a pleasure to work on such a project."

"We're very honoured," the woman murmured. Kingsley prodded Harry forward and he nearly dropped the pile of parchment in his arms.

"Have you met Harry?" Kingsley asked. It was like a cue for the couple to start gushing. Harry tried desperately to shake hands, hang onto the parchment and sound interested, the whole time wondering why the punk wizard in the corner was staring at him. Harry turned slightly so he could concentrate on the couple in front of him. He nodded as they spoke, hoping it was in all the right places and trying to sound interested in the design of the fountain.

"It was such a challenge, you see," the man said thoughtfully. "To make a monument that would serve as a reminder, yet be infused with such grace, such beauty … and reflect … reflect …"

"The true nature of who we want to be," his companion said, enthused. "A tribute not only to those who sacrificed, but to those who remain and the world we're building for ourselves and our children!"

"And that is why we used children!" cried the man fervently. "They represent the innocence we had ripped from our very souls! They are the hope for the future! Now that these dark times are over we should more fully embrace the future and rebuild the wizarding world. We no longer have to be afraid for our children, afraid to _have_ children! You want children, don't you, Mr Potter?"

"Erm, of course," Harry muttered. He didn't know how to escape. The pair seemed to go on and on about their fountain, which as far as Harry cold tell was just four children playing. He was sure it was a lovely fountain, it just didn't captivate his _soul_ and make its way into every fibre of their being, infusing him with hope and peace and love – the way it clearly had theirs, if their effusive commentary was anything to go by. Harry murmured his appreciation for their hard work and excused himself as soon as he felt it was polite. He tried to double back to Professor McGonagall's desk where he could set down the parchment burden he still carried. He was within sight of his goal when a thin, hunch-backed wizard with wispy brown hair darted forward and thrust a scroll at Harry.

"I finished your speech, sir!"

"Speech?"

"You're last, right?" the man asked. Harry nodded uncertainly and the man scurried away.

"Ah, Potter, there you are!" Professor McGonagall beckoned from her place near the hearth. Harry sighed and made his way across the room.

"The artist needs to see you," the Headmistress murmured and prodded him towards the punk wizard who had been staring at him earlier. He was standing with a woman whose lips matched their entirely black clothing. The man had a lime green Mohawk and six safety pins dangled from his left ear. The woman's spiky red hair was no distraction for the plastic vampire fangs revealed when she smiled. Harry stared at the plastic fangs.

"I told her not to wear them," the man droned. Harry just blinked at him. The man adjusted his black collar. "She thinks they make her look more … arty. I think they just make her look daft."

"Because green hair is _so _normal," the woman said, spitting the fangs out into her hand. She put the plastic fangs into her pocket and extended her hand to Harry. He eyed her hand carefully before nodding to the parchment clutched to his chest, hoping it would be sufficient excuse not to shake her hand.

"Spenks," said the man. "Clive Spenks, official Ministry artist and this is my assistant Penelope."

"Pen," muttered the woman. "It's just Pen, you overgrown tosspot."

"Now, what will you be wearing, Harry?" asked Clive suddenly. "I can call you Harry, yeah? I just don't do a lot of formality, you know?"

"Wearing?" Harry asked. "I think that Clint guy said I had to wear Auror uniform-"

"Uniform for the portrait then ..." Clive said thoughtfully, stepping back and squinting at Harry.

"What portrait?"

"Will you be wanting a personal copy of the portrait or just the display version?" Clive asked, producing a black quill out of nowhere and holding it poised above a notepad in the shape of a bat. Harry stared at the notepad.

"He's so very Muggle sometimes." Pen rolled her eyes as she spoke.

"You're the one wearing my plastic Hallowe'en fangs," Clive muttered. He looked at Harry expectantly.

"Erm … just the display?" Harry ventured. Clive began scribbling and Harry looked around desperately. A kind-looking woman with rather large glasses perched on her nose gazed at him with a friendly smile.

"So, just the display portrait, in your Auror uniform …" Clive chewed on the end of his quill thoughtfully. "I could throw in a miniature for nix if you want? Yeah, the chicks dig those. Anything else?"

"I … guess not?" Harry said timidly, watching in alarm as the parchment in his arms began sliding to the floor. The woman with the large glasses sprang to his side, catching the parchment as it cascaded to the floor.

"I don't know why they gave all that to you," she muttered, sounding like she was tutting at unseen minions. "I am perfectly capable of handling it all. I thought that's why they hired me …" She trailed off, shuffling the parchment expertly and making it into a neat pile.

"Oh good!" Kingsley's voice broke through Harry's confusion. "I see you found Mrs Langley. Look after Mr Potter, won't you, Veronica?" And then Kingsley was gone again. Harry just stared around in confusion.

"Here we are then," Mrs Langley said. "I brought a spare quill and I think if we start with the employment contract and work our way through to the uniform acknowledgement we should be right."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, shaking his head. "I have no idea what is going on." Mrs Langley looked at him and tutted softly.

"I think everyone may have gotten carried away and failed to fill you in," she said softly. "I thought this might happen."

"Will _you_ fill me in?" Harry asked a little petulantly. Mrs Langley smiled.

"I'm your secretary, dear," she said patiently, guiding Harry to a seat near one of the narrow windows.

"My what?"

"Things got a little out of hand after the engagement announcement," Mrs Langley explained, perching on a chair opposite Harry and offering him a quill. She pointed to blank spaces on the parchment and Harry automatically signed them as she spoke. "So Mr Shacklebolt hired me to start taking care of things. I've been fielding international press mostly but we've also managed to draw up your employment contracts and settle the matters relating to you starting in the Auror department full-time in July. I found a very excellent speech writer to do your commemoration speech and made sure Clint was here to get your uniform organised. Oh and the artist wanted to meet you informally before the first sitting.

"I think most of the ceremony details have been admirably taken care of by Mr Weasley. Such a lovely young man, I understand he's your fiancée's brother? Very efficient I must say. Professor McGonagall has been very helpful too. There's practically nothing left to do. I made sure young Mr Weasley paid special attention to security. Not that I had to do a lot, he's a very conscientious young man – very concerned with your safety.

"Now your employment contract is here, I had it checked by an independent legal firm. It's a standard Auror contract, no extra rubbish about public appearances and what not. The head of the Auror Department wasn't very impressed but Mr Shacklebolt was quite firm with him and we got our way in the end, dear."

Harry signed the parchment she gave him and watched as she efficiently rolled each piece and sealed it. She seemed to know exactly what she was doing and Harry breathed a sigh of relief and made a note to thank Kingsley for hiring her. He slumped back in the chair as Mrs Langley gathered up the scrolls and patted him on the shoulder.

"I'll be off to sort these out, don't you worry about a thing," she said kindly. "I think you've enough to worry about at the moment. It can't be easy, this time of year …" She trailed off, staring out of the window for a moment.

"No, it isn't," Harry said softly. Mrs Langley smiled a sad smile at him and turned away, giving his shoulder one last pat. Harry glanced around the room. Pen was watching him critically while Clive scribbled furiously on his notepad. Clint, the red-robed Auror uniform maker was arguing with Beth, the spotty-faced witch, who seemed to be producing more parchment forms by the minute. Harry idly hoped he wouldn't have to sign any more of them. Professor McGonagall was smiling and nodding at the very elegant Wifflebattens. Several other witches and wizards, some in Ministry robes, were scattered about the office consulting sheafs of parchment and talking animatedly.

Harry wondered if he could sneak out undetected. He decided not to try it because huddled in this chair he was being ignored for the moment. Harry idly reached out and fiddled with the spindly silver ornament on the table in front of him. It made him think of Dumbledore, and he wondered, not for the first time, what the instrument did. He picked it up only to have it melt into a puddle of molten silver in his hands. Hastily, he tried to put it back on the table, hoping no one would notice the pool of silver slowly dripping onto the floor.

"Have you finalised the seating, Kingsley?" Professor's McGonagall's voice rang out above the hubbub.

"Percy should have it," Kingsley called back. Harry wondered where he'd be sitting. He doubted it would be with Ginny. He'd probably have to sit up the front where people could stare at him. Harry pulled a face at the thought. A camera flash suddenly went off. Harry blinked frantically, scowling at being caught unawares.

"Ah, Mr Potter, good, you're here!" A short, pudgy man in lavender robes appeared in front of Harry, behind the spots left by the flash. The man was brandishing a massive camera and looked like a squashed version of Lockhart. "What we'll do is have you come out after everyone is seated – maximum effect, they'll go wild. Now you'll be wearing Auror robes, yes? Excellent, nothing like a man in uniform to get those nubile hearts pumping-"

"Excuse me, what?" Harry stared at the man, horrified. The wizard was scribbling feverishly on a purple clipboard in front of him.

"McDonald!" Professor McGonagall's voice was like ice as she struggled past Mrs Langley who was arguing with Pen over the location of Harry's portrait sitting. "You are here only to organise the official photographs, not turn the memorial service into a rock concert!"

"It could be magical-"

"Of course it's magical," Professor McGonagall spat with disdain. "He's a wizard!" Harry struggled to hide his snort, turning away from them as the Headmistress continued to berate the obnoxious man.

It was only out of the corner of his eye, but Harry could have sworn Professor Dumbledore's portrait winked at him as Kingsley swept up to him once more.

"Any questions, Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry muttered. "What in Merlin's name is going on?"

"Mrs Langley didn't tell you?"

"Well … yeah, she did but-"

"Excellent!" Kingsley said with a grin. "I'll see you at the commemoration service!" Harry scowled again and got out of the chair, determined to go to the doorway. It seemed as though every witch or wizard wished to stop him on the way.

"Are you sure you don't want an additional smaller portrait for your office?"

"Two uniforms or three?"

"You simply must come and see the fountain next time you're in London!"

"You're sure you don't want to speak first?"

"Mr Potter!" The Headmistress's tone was commanding and Harry froze obediently. "A word, please? In private?" Harry just nodded at her and Professor McGonagall winked at him. The moving mass of humanity in the Headmistress's office began murmuring their apologies and one by one they moved out of the door or clambered into the fireplace, whisked away by the green flames. Kingsley patted Harry on the back as he stepped into the Floo.

"See you later, Harry," he boomed and was gone. Harry stared at Professor McGonagall as Pen's robes fluttered around the edge of the door and then the room was still except for the whirring of one of Professor Dumbledore's old silver instruments.

"Biscuit, Potter?" asked the Headmistress, holding out her tartan tin. Harry took one slowly.

"I knew fame would go to his head," sniffed a voice from behind the desk.

"Now, now, Severus," said Professor Dumbledore's portrait. "Don't be too hard on the boy. I thought he handled that rather well."

"If that's what fame does, you can have it," Harry said as he bit savagely into his biscuit.

"I rather think it's yours whether you like it or not, Harry." Professor McGonagall sighed as she selected a piece of shortbread. Harry just grunted and sank into one of the plush armchairs in front of her desk. The two of them polished off the remainder of the biscuits before tea time.

******************

The first anniversary of the day Teddy's parents were killed dawned grey and cloudy. It was not a fitting day to remember Fred. On the other hand, it suited Snape's memory perfectly. Harry fumbled with his tie and swore colourfully before ripping it away from his throat and throwing it across the room. Hermione sighed and stepped over to pick it up, her dainty feet picking through the mess he'd made in front of his dresser while trying to find his socks.

"Honestly Harry, why is this so difficult for you?"

"Why is it so difficult?" Harry stared at her. "This is easy for you?" Hermione looped the tie around his neck and began threading the ends through each other in a complex pattern.

"I already did Ron's and Neville's and then Seamus and Dean-"

"Oh … you mean the tie …"

"Of course I meant the tie," Hermione snapped as she tugged it a little too tight and smoothed it down his chest. "You lot wear them all the time, its part of your uniform and yet-"

"Yeah but we never untie those from the first time," Harry smirked at her.

"You didn't untie your school tie for six years?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. Harry just shrugged at her. He smiled as she huffed at him and started picking up all his mismatched socks.

"Where is Ron, anyway?" Harry asked, fingering his wand nervously. He wasn't sure where to put it. Moody's voice yelled in his head every time he tried to put it in his back pocket and he couldn't, for the life of him, find any damn pockets on the stupid Auror uniform.

Hermione faltered as she folded a pair of socks that she had located but didn't say anything. Harry watched her hands tremble slightly as she wrenched his top drawer open. She scowled at the haphazard pile of boxer shorts and slammed the drawer shut, yanking open the next one down and shoving the socks in roughly.

"Hermione?" Harry asked gently, impressed with his own maturity in not batting an eyelid that Hermione had just been in his underwear drawer.

"He … he said he … he's with George." Hermione looked up at Harry and a lone tear ran down her face. Harry searched his trouser pockets, knowing he'd put a handkerchief in one of them. He offered it to Hermione as she sniffled and sank down onto his bed.

"How is George?" Harry asked softly.

"He keeps making jokes about that article," Hermione said with a shrug. "Nearly got a Bat-Bogey to the nether regions. I couldn't tell if Ginny was more annoyed that he was joking _today_ or if it was because he was asking how soon he needed to pass on the cradle." Harry groaned and flopped backwards onto his bed, closing his eyes.

"I say two words and its front page news!"

"What exactly did you say, Harry?"

"I believe my exact response to the question of having children was 'erm, of course', not a lengthy discussion about single-handedly repopulating the wizarding world!"

"Romilda Vane brewed Ginny a contraceptive potion yesterday," Hermione continued. "That stuff is nasty."

"It is?" Harry opened one eye and looked at Hermione who was smirking at him.

"It is when you're wearing it on your head," Hermione confided. "Madam Pomfrey said there was nothing she could do about the smell in Romilda's hair or her pink and blue streaks. Then she gave the entire fifth and sixth years a lecture on being sexually responsible. I think if she could have, she would have taught them all how to brew an effective birth control potion on the spot."

"Charms are more effective anyway," Harry murmured.

"So, you know a bit about this then?" Hermione asked with a smirk. Harry sighed and sat up.

"Yeah, I do," he said softly. Hermione blushed and didn't answer him. The two of them sat in silence until Neville poked his head around the door.

"Professor McGonagall said it's nearly time to start," Neville said quietly. "Ginny … um … asked me to tell you that she … she's with her Mum." Harry nodded and Neville withdrew.

"I don't want to do this," Hermione said suddenly. "Ron was supposed to be here – be with me … but George needs him. I don't think I _can_ do this by myself."

"We'll do it together," Harry said quietly. "The last thing I want to be doing today is this. I have to sit up the front where everyone can gawk at me and give a stupid speech and pose for pictures. Believe me, I had several long and argumentative Floo calls with Kingsley about this." Harry sighed. "I've got a secretary now, you know. She supposedly looks after me." Hermione laughed.

"A secretary?" she repeated. "To look after you?"

"Well … it's probably a good thing," Harry said slowly. "Because I'm not at all sure I'm ready for the world that's waiting out there. I've been so wrapped up here … they're putting a portrait up – in the Ministry. I couldn't talk Kingsley out of it. There's paperwork and letters. Apparently there are a lot of owls … daily – fan mail." Harry scowled.

"So … Kingsley organised a secretary to look after you?" Hermione's mouth twitched.

"Yeah," Harry said wryly.

"Well, I supposed someone has to," Hermione said with a smirk.

"Very funny," Harry said, shoving her lightly. Hermione sighed and her face fell suddenly.

"I just … who's going to look after Ron?" Hermione asked. "I want to be there for him but he never lets anyone … He's always so strong for George-"

"He'll be fine," Harry said, pulling Hermione close. "I was going to refuse to do this, you know, but Professor McGonagall talked me into it. She said people need this chance to remember and that if we don't_ remember_, we're just doomed to repeat things. I hate it but … we can't go through it all again, Hermione. We can't. If putting on a uniform and reading some dodgy little speech will help us remember – so it doesn't happen again – I'll do it."

"That's very mature, Harry," Hermione said looking up at him. Harry shrugged and grinned at her.

"I can be mature," he said with a smirk, "sometimes. Come on. We'll stick together and when the dodgy little speech is done we'll go find Ron and Ginny and then maybe we can get drunk."

The two of them made their way out of Harry's dormitory, finding the common room deserted. Hurrying through the portrait hole they scuttled down the staircase and joined the last few stragglers in the Entrance Hall.

"Oh! There you are Potter!" Professor McGonagall called shrilly from the doorway. She beckoned to Harry frantically. "I've had that obnoxious McDonald fellow looking for you. You're supposed to be somewhere for photos-"

"Yeah well, I don't want my photo taken right now," Harry muttered, gripping Hermione's hand tightly and pulling her through the crowd. "It's bad enough I have to sit up the front on the stupid dais. He can take all the pictures of me he wants when I'm up there."

There was a commotion behind the Headmistress and suddenly McDonald was struggling up the steps, dressed impeccably in a set of eye-watering purple robes and brandishing his camera.

"Where is Miss Weasley?" he asked frantically. "She's supposed to be with you!"

"She's with her family," Harry said shortly.

"How am I supposed to get a photograph of the couple of the hour-"

"You know what?" Harry said. "I don't actually care. She's busy at the moment and I couldn't care less what photographs you take of me but you will leave her alone! She has enough to worry about today without _you_ nosing around like-"

"Harry," Hermione warned in a low voice, squeezing his hand. Harry stopped abruptly and just hissed at the photographer before plunging down the steps, pulling Hermione in his wake.

He stomped across the grounds, Hermione hurrying to keep up with him, faltering only when he neared the rows and rows of chairs set out in front of the marble monuments that Harry avoided at all costs. The back rows were filling up with students in neatly pressed uniforms. Elegantly dressed adults filtered into the front rows. Harry could see Neville sitting with his grandmother in her vulture hat and Luna floating down the aisle to her father, who was wearing an electric blue hat with a crimson feather. Dennis sat hunched next to Dean and Seamus in chairs near the back and Gilbert sat quietly next to his parents who were cradling the small children from the Children's Home on their laps.

A few haughty looking witches and wizards sat on the dais. Harry knew he'd seen them before at official events but couldn't put a name to any of the faces. Kingsley was wandering among the crowd, shaking hands and speaking quietly and Percy was standing on the edge of the dais. His face was drawn and he clutched a clipboard in his hand. His eyes constantly flickered to the group of redheads near the front row. Harry's heart ached as he noticed Ginny, hunched under Charlie's arm while Ron stoically stood beside George who was staring at the monument. Jonathon appeared to be talking to him intently and Bert was holding Angelina the way that Arthur held Molly. Bill and Fleur were wrapped around each other and Harry wanted to go over there, to worm his way into Ginny's embrace and never let go.

But he had to play The Boy Who Lived today.

Harry took a deep breath and looked up at Percy who nodded fractionally. Harry squeezed Hermione's hand before letting go.

"I have to go sit up there," he said heavily. "You'd best go to Ron."

"I'll come with you," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"Hermione-"

"You can't sit up there all by yourself," Hermione said quietly. "Everyone else has got someone. Why should you sit alone in the middle of a bunch of stuffed shirts? I mean you're probably seated next to Milton Burbank!"

"Who is he, anyway?" Harry asked.

"He's in charge of Magical Monuments and Memorials," Hermione said, leaning close to Harry and talking quietly. "Smallest department in the Ministry and he's utterly full of himself for doing such a good job the past year. Honestly. He's had virtually nothing _to _do for the past seventeen. I'm sure he had a stockpile, smarmy little git."

Harry just stared at her. Who knew there was a Ministry Department for Monuments and Memorials? He was startled as a flash went off and as he turned he saw a flash of lime green vanishing in the crowd of students who were taking their seats. Harry scowled. He'd told that stupid photographer to take pictures later.

"Come on now 'Arry," Hagrid said gruffly as he appeared at Harry's elbow. "I think it's you we're waitin' on."

Harry gazed around and realised that a lot of people were looking at him expectantly. Hermione slipped her hand into his again and he clutched it gratefully before he put his head down and made his way up to the dais.

Hermione followed him. She stayed with him the entire time, stopping his knee from jerking up and down with nerves, unfolding his speech for him and glaring at Milton Burbank when he asked for Harry's autograph. Harry couldn't bring himself to pay much attention to the proceedings. He avoided looking out over the sea of faces. His gaze was fixed on a tiny, blue haired boy who chewed on a yellow duck as he sat in his grandmother's arms, occasionally squealing with delight and waving the toy around. The speeches were long and tedious and the sky overhead remained a gloomy grey. The white marble monuments glowed with a sort of eerie half light in the gloom and the speakers droned on and on.

"Pssst, Harry, you're up!" Hermione leaned over and spoke urgently, pushing Harry slightly. A camera flash went off and Harry slowly got to his feet. He searched out Ginny as he made his way to the podium that Kingsley had just vacated. She gazed up at him from under Charlie's protective arm and offered him a half smile. Teddy squealed loudly and Harry smoothed his parchment on the podium in front of him, clearing his throat.

He stared down at the parchment he'd read several times over the past few days. It really was a decent speech. Hermione had helped him adjust a few things so he was a bit more comfortable reading it and now all that was left to do was get it over with. He took a deep breath and prepared himself to look up and really see the audience for the first time. Before Harry had even raised his head pandemonium erupted. He was pulled away from the podium and thrown to the floor of the dais, his head narrowly missing the edge of Milton Burbank's chair. Screams were echoing across the grounds and the sound of spell fire whizzed overhead. Percy was crouched over Harry, alternately swearing and shooting spells over his head and into the crowd.

"What's going on?" Harry asked frantically, getting to his knees and reaching for his wand. Percy pushed him to the floor, hissing at him to stay down. That's when Harry heard Hermione's shrill shriek. He whipped around; trying to locate her but was distracted when he heard Ron bellowing for Ginny. Harry threw Percy off and scrambled to his feet, ducking and weaving behind the rows of scattered chairs and jumping off the edge of the dais.

"Harry!" Percy shouted. He leapt off the dais after Harry. The two collided several feet from the edge of the dais and tumbled into a decorative urn on the edge of the roped off area in which the chairs had been set up. Harry swore as his head connected with the edge of the urn and he felt warm, sticky blood slide down his face. Percy landed on his left leg and reached for the urn urgently. Harry bit back a shriek of protest at the fire now shooting through his leg and only groaned, when suddenly the world began to whirl and tilt alarmingly. Harry heard Hermione scream as he went rolling through space, crashing against Percy as they landed in a heap on a stone floor.

Percy groaned, rolling off of Harry and sitting up. Harry pressed one hand to his head and lay still for a moment as he tried to focus. His back throbbed and his left leg was sheer agony. He blinked a couple of times and gazed around. He and Percy were in the Gryffindor common room. The urn lay on the floor beside them, rolling back and forth slightly.

"Well, well, well," purred a feminine voice. "This is surprising." Harry looked over at Professor Crockwell who was standing a few feet away.

"What the hell happened?" Harry spat.

"Security Portkey," Percy said shortly. He turned to Professor Crockwell. "What are you doing in here? This was to be the secure, _empty_ safe location. As Head of House it was your responsibility to ensure that, but not even _you_ are supposed to be here now."

"I don't need to explain myself to you, young man," she replied with a sniff.

"Percy," said Harry, trying desperately to stem the flow of blood from his scalp with the sleeve of his robes. "What are _we_ doing here?"

"We put security Portkeys near the dais," Percy said as he lurched to his feet, holding his head. "In case something happened. Ron was very insistent."

"Is that why you launched yourself at me?" Harry grumbled, struggling into a sitting position. "To get us to one of these Portkeys?" Percy nodded.

"Let me look at that nasty cut," Professor Crockwell said. She started towards them and Harry hoped she'd be decent at dealing with cut heads – maybe she could even do something about his leg, it was torture and Harry wondered just exactly what Percy had done when he'd landed on him. Percy suddenly drew in a sharp breath and moved between Harry and the Professor.

"I'll just take Harry down to the hospital wing," Percy said.

"It is bleeding rather a lot, dear," said Professor Crockwell. "And Mr Potter is supposed to _stay here_ until Mr Shacklebolt gives the all-clear, in the event of an emergency. I didn't think you'd be one to _break the rules_, Mr Weasley."

"Harry?" Percy said, staring at the Gryffindor Head of House. "Get up, Harry."

"What? Why?" Harry groaned as his head started spinning but he didn't have time to reorient himself before Percy was hauling him to his feet. Harry groaned and lurched sideways, favouring his injured leg as spell fire rang out.

"Get to the portrait hole!" shouted Percy, shoving Harry away, sending him sprawling on the floor. His leg was on fire and he gritted his teeth, trying to slow his breathing. He didn't see exactly what happened next, possibly because his head was spinning and his vision was getting fuzzy, but suddenly Gryffindor Tower was awash with spell fire, shouting and a loud clang.

"Bloody hell!" Ron's shout rang through the common room.

"Get down Hermione!"

"Neville! Look out!"

"Harry!"

"Get him out of here!"

Harry was hauled unceremoniously to his feet. He could feel hands tugging at him, pulling him towards the portrait hole. Blood ran freely down his face and into his eyes and he felt dizzy. His left leg refused to support his weight and dimly, Harry wondered if it was broken. He saw Hermione in front of him before she suddenly lurched sideways. Pulling Harry down as she darted closer to the fireplace.

"What's going on?" Harry asked desperately as Ron reached out and dragged them behind the overturned couch he and Percy were sheltered behind. Harry gritted his teeth as a wave of pain washed over his leg. He swiped at his face furiously, blood coating his palms.

"It's Crockwell!" Ron hissed. "She's got a bloody army!"

"Don't be ridiculous Ron," Hermione said. "There are only two of them. It's just they blocked the portrait hole! We're lucky they're such terrible shots!" Harry shook his head, confused and dazed. Neville suddenly dove behind the couch, clutching at his knee. Blood poured from a wound on his leg.

"Damn!" he said through gritted teeth. A red spell sailed through the air, sizzling into the wall above their heads. Harry could hear Professor Crockwell barking orders. Neville threw up a shield hastily, wincing as he kneeled up to hold it steady. Hermione reached over to tear off Neville's shredded trouser leg and began winding it around the gash in his leg while Ron wadded up his handkerchief and pressed it hurriedly to Harry's head.

"What the hell is happening?" Harry demanded. "How did you get here?"

"Security Portkey," Ron answered. "Hermione was screeching about your head bleeding so I grabbed the one next to it. To make sure you were okay, you know? Neville here wouldn't take no for an answer about coming. Didn't know we'd be landing in this mess though!"

"You're supposed to be safe," Percy said. "It's supposed to get you out of harm's way not land you in it! No one but Ron, Kingsley, Professor Crockwell and I even _knew_ about them!"

"Well who knew Crockwell had a little army of knobheads?" Ron said sarcastically. He swore as he pulled the handkerchief away from Harry's head and began pulling on his tie. The handkerchief was soaked but Harry ignored it, almost bending double over his left leg which throbbed painfully.

"What are we going to _do_?" Hermione asked. "We need to get Harry and Neville to the hospital wing and we're trapped in here!"

"Perce! Give me your hanky!" Ron demanded. "You too, Hermione." Percy fished out an impeccably clean and pressed handkerchief and Hermione handed Ron a piece of white lace. Ron frowned before transfiguring it into a simple cotton handkerchief. He pressed them to Harry's head, still trying to pull his tie from his neck with his other hand.

"What the hell does she want?" Harry asked. His vision was swimming and he could barely think for the pounding in his skull.

"What do I want?" Professor Crockwell's manic screech echoed through the Tower. "You need to ask?" Her voice rose in fury as a spell slammed into the pot of Floo powder on the mantle piece, igniting the powder which began sparking dangerously.

"Yes, I bloody need to ask!" Harry shouted back, clutching his head as his own voice reverberated through his head. Ron batted his hands away impatiently as he tried to anchor the handkerchiefs to Harry's head with his tie.

"I can't stop this damn bleeding!" Ron said, a note of panic creeping into his voice.

"It's a head wound, don't worry about it. They bleed a lot," Harry said impatiently, fighting back a wave of nausea and craning to see over the couch.

"Gryffindor Tower was supposed to be the safest place in the castle," Percy muttered.

"We didn't factor her, though, did we?" Ron said, still holding Harry's head in a vice-like grip.

"She's got one of her goons by the portrait hole and the other by the staircase," Hermione whispered. "We can't get past them."

"We have to think of something," Neville said. "I don't know how long I can hold this shield."

"Why are you doing this?" Harry shouted again.

"This is all your fault!" shrieked Crockwell. "You cannot be allowed to get away with this!"

"Get away with what?" Harry muttered, wincing as some of the sparks from the Floo powder ignited his trouser leg and began singeing Neville's hair. Hermione frantically beat at the smouldering spots on all of them while Crockwell began muttering about revenge.

"She's like a cartoon!" Hermione said in disbelief.

"What's a cartoon?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"Oh, you'd love them-" Harry began.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "Let's just figure out a way out of here. She can't be reasoned with; she's clearly lost her mind!"

"Reminds me of our old friend Bellatrix," Neville muttered. "Mad as a hatter."

"Well, Kinglsey should be along shortly," Percy muttered. He didn't sound particularly confident. At that moment a flash of sickly purple light sliced through Neville's shield and it seemed to disperse with an audible snap. Orange spell fire ricocheted off the wall behind them and Percy hissed in pain as his ear was singed.

"But we'll not make it before they get to us!" Hermione said frantically as Ron let fire a barrage of stunning spells over the top of the couch. The sparks from the Floo lit on the tapestry behind them and it began smouldering. Neville stared in horror as the flames began to lick up the tapestry.

"The room!" Neville cried suddenly. "It's got to open for us! We're in peril! The bloody thing has got to open!"

"Try and get through the wall!" Hermione said, pushing Neville towards the wall. Percy looked at her as if she was mad, ducking as a sickly green light washed across the tower.

"Quick she's started throwing bloody killing curses," Ron cried as he dived back behind the couch.

"What is my fault?" Harry spluttered, still trying to figure out Professor Crockwell's cryptic ramblings. "What shouldn't I get away with?"

"Just find the damn room," Hermione said desperately, pushing him towards the wall. "Ron, cover them!"

Neville ripped the flaming tapestry off the wall, throwing it on the couch and sank his hand into the stone wall just as the couch burst into flames.

"It works! Go! Go!" Neville shouted, hauling Harry to his feet. Harry gritted his teeth as he felt his left leg buckle.

"Ron …" he groaned, trying to balance on his right leg. Hermione grasped Harry's arm, holding him upright.

"Get them out of here, Neville!" Ron warned as he cast several hexes over the top of the flaming couch.

Neville dragged Harry's arm over his shoulders, clutching his hand as he hauled Harry towards the wall. The three of them plunged through the wall. Harry heard Professor Crockwell's enraged cry as they spilled into the duelling room. Neville dived back through the wall to get Ron and Percy.

"Come on Neville, come on," Hermione muttered. Harry lay panting heavily, dizzy from loss of blood, his leg felt like a million knives were tap dancing along it. Neville suddenly appeared, bursting through the wall, with Ron abreast of him, dragging Percy behind.

"She's got my foot!" Percy yelled in the split second before Professor Crockwell came tumbling through the wall.

The Professor wasted no time, stunning Percy who fell to the floor like a limp rag. Ron gave an enraged bellow and started an incantation when Professor Crockwell neatly disarmed him. Hermione fumbled with her wand, swearing as it skittered across the floor out of her reach. Harry was fighting the blackness threatening to overtake him and couldn't even remember where he'd put his wand.

"We're out of bloody practice," said Ron as Neville threw up a shield.

"She can get through this," Neville warned. "I don't know how, but she bloody can!"

Professor Crockwell advanced slowly, smirking in a way that reminded Harry unpleasantly of Umbridge. She swam in his vision and Harry closed his eyes, turning over and trying desperately to get to his feet. Or at least his knees.

"Not so brilliant now, are we Mr Potter?" Crockwell said silkily, still casting curses. Harry could hear them collide with Neville's shield. "How does it feel to be helpless?"

"Trust me, it's not a new feeling," Harry muttered. He felt his pockets frantically, searching for his wand.

"Oh, don't worry, you won't need a wand," Crockwell said as she sliced through Neville's shield again. "I think I have it all under control."

Harry's eyes snapped open in time to see Neville throw himself at her only to be stunned, falling next to Percy, the pair of them lying in a broken heap at the base of the duelling platform.

"Damnit, you evil-"

"Ron! No!" Hermione's shout echoed around the room as Ron darted forward, but was suddenly throw backwards by the force of Crockwell's spell. His head landed with a sickening crack on the edge of the duelling platform and he lay still.

"Honestly," Professor Crockwell said, shaking her head."'It's a wonder you managed to defeat He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named at all." She'd stopped throwing curses and spells and was twirling her wand much like a gunslinger from an old Western.

"Well, we weren't exactly expecting the Head of House to turn on us," Hermione spat, moving in front of Harry.

"Why not?" Crockwell demanded. "I left plenty of clues! But it's taken you too long to figure it out! Just like it takes you too long to work out _everything_!"

"Look," Harry said wearily. "I don't know what your problem is-"

"You don't know?" screeched the professor. She levelled her wand at Hermione, hissing at her menacingly. "Get out of the way."

"No!" Hermione cried. "You can't _do_ this!"

"I can!" the professor cried. "I'm not going to stand by and watch while he lets Slytherins just walk around, encouraging Gryffindors to fraternise with them! While he lives as he pleases and my sister rots in the ground!"

"What?" Harry asked, dazed, finally having located his wand in a small pocket hidden in the depths of his new Auror robes.

"She was tortured because of you!" Crockwell screeched maniacally. "They took her and tortured her and she died! Everyone knew you were the Chosen One! And you did _nothing_! And they took her! She never did anything to them! And now, you want to just live together in some sort of pathetic peace and harmony! She died! She died because of you! All she wanted to do was teach and they took her and tortured her and killed her!"

"Who?" asked Harry desperately as he struggled to pull his wand free of the confines of his robes without Crockwell noticing.

"My sister!" Crockwell screamed. "Charity was all I had left in this world and now she's gone and it's_ your_ fault!"

"The Muggle Studies teacher?" Hermione breathed. Crockwell aimed her wand at Harry and a sickly red spell burst out of the tip and set fire to the end of his robes. Hermione swore and began beating them out with her own robes, crying out as a purple spell hit her side.

"Should I torture you too, before I kill you?" Crockwell asked, her head tilted to the side. "I've been so unlucky with killing you so far. I think you must be the most protected and cosseted man in all of Britain.

"It all _seemed_ so easy. There were plenty of dissatisfied people. It wasn't hard to find a few people to go along with my plans. Not everyone thinks the sun shines out of your arse, Potter!" She twirled her wand once more before raising it. Hermione groaned, crawling up to Harry who pulled her close.

"I think you're mad," Harry said. He clutched his wand in his hand, fighting the waves of nausea that constantly swept over him. Crockwell let forth a shout of pain and rage and sent a slicing curse at his arm. Harry cried out in alarm, dropping his wand. The additional pain and blood loss made his head spin further and he leaned into Hermione.

"Tut, tut, Miss Granger, what would Miss Weasley think?" Crockwell mocked as the two of them clung to each other. She raised her wand once more.

"I think you'll find Miss Weasley isn't threatened by Miss Granger." Ginny's voice rang out only seconds before her stunner flew across the room, landing at Crockwell's feet. Ginny swore violently.

Harry twisted around to see her standing near the small table that held the case of daggers, glaring at the professor. She threw several spells in quick succession but Crockwell blocked them all before hitting Ginny's wand hand with a vicious stinging hex and she cried out, dropping her wand. Crockwell just laughed and pointed her wand at Harry as Ginny dived near the table holding the daggers to retrieve her wand.

"I think this has gone on long enough," Crockwell said firmly. She started her incantation but Ginny cut her off.

"Duck, Harry!" Ginny cried. Harry ducked, flattening himself to the floor, pulling Hermione with him as the ruby embedded dagger flew through the air, sailing straight for Crockwell's chest. She gave one surprised cry before her wand fell from her hand and she slumped to the floor.

Ginny burst into tears as she flew across the room, throwing herself onto Harry. They clutched at each other and Harry felt his consciousness slipping.

"Ginny," he murmured. He could hear Hermione crawling to Ron, calling out to him but was too exhausted and sore to move. He let Ginny cradle his head in her lap as she murmured over and over that he was going to be fine while she tore the sleeve off his new robe and tied it around the wound on his arm.

"Stay with me, Harry," Ginny demanded. "Don't you leave me!"

"Leg … hurts …" Harry moaned. "But I … figured out … who's trying to kill me." Ginny sobbed brokenly as Harry tried to smile, fighting to stay with her.

"Don't," she shook her head. "Don't joke."

From somewhere in the distance, Percy groaned. Harry could hear Hermione murmuring and Neville saying something but he tuned them out, focusing on Ginny. Her robes were torn and she had a black smudge on her cheek. Her hair was falling out of the ponytail she'd pulled it into for the commemoration service. The black armband on her left arm was scorched and she winced as she ran her left hand through his hair, her right hand pressing on the makeshift bandage on his cut scalp.

"Your arm?" Harry asked, reaching up to touch her face.

"Its fine," Ginny murmured. "I'm fine."

"We have to get you to the hospital wing." Neville's voice moved closer and soon he was hovering over Harry as well.

"You … don't look so hot … yourself," Harry retorted breathlessly. Neville waved a hand dismissively.

"Ron's still out cold," he said, holding up three fingers. "How many?"

"What?"

"If you can tell me how many bloody fingers, Potter, you can wait," Neville said, wiggling his fingers impatiently. "I'll take Ron first."

"Three," Harry replied, closing his eyes. He felt Neville's large hand squeeze his shoulder.

"I'll be right back, Harry," Neville said. "Don't move."

"I still don't understand-" Percy's complaint was drowned out by a sudden commotion in the adjoining room. Ginny's head jerked up and Neville sprang to his feet.

"What the-" Neville didn't bother to finish his sentence as he darted through the door which expanded under his touch. Harry shifted to see where Neville was going and cried out as hot needles of pain shot through his left leg.

Neville pulled open the door to the large room and Harry caught a glimpse of what appeared to be the whole of Gryffindor House, the Minister for Magic and half the Auror team who'd been assigned to the commemoration services.

"Mr Longbottom!" exclaimed Professor McGonagall. "What are you doing here? What is this place?"

"How did you get in?" Neville replied.

"The door appeared a few moments ago," the Headmistress replied. "The Minister here has informed me of the special security measures but when it was obvious Mr Potter was _not_ in Gryffindor Tower as previously arranged … I went to inform the Aurors and … well … this door appeared on the seventh floor landing."

"And it just let you in?" Neville asked with a frown.

"Oh!" Hermione gasped. She scrambled to her feet, running up to Neville and grabbing his arm. "You were holding hands!" Neville stared at her. "The runes! They said when two hands join! That's when secrets throng!"

"You think the door appeared because I was holding Harry's hand?" Neville looked at Hermione as if she'd lost her mind.

"You were holding hands?" Ginny smirked down at Harry and he rolled his eyes at her.

"Don't you see?" Hermione was practically jumping in her excitement. "When you pulled Harry through with you – the two of you together, it unlocked the secret of Gryffindor's room! Now everyone can enjoy it!"

"Hermione, I appreciate your … excitement," Neville said. "Let's get Ron and Harry to the hospital wing and then you can explain it to everyone again – so it makes sense."

It wasn't long before several cloaks were transfigured into two stretchers and the Aurors who had accompanied Professor McGonagall lifted both Ron and Harry, bearing them to the hospital wing. Harry gritted his teeth as every movement seemed to shoot new and torturous waves of pain through his entire body. He clung to Ginny's hand as if it were a lifeline all the way to the hospital wing. Things began to get hazy after they got there. Harry thought Madam Pomfrey gave him something very special indeed because he could feel himself smiling at her like a loon when she tutted over his leg.

"Did you try to _walk_ on this Potter?" the matron asked. "While it was _broken_?"

"I didn't know it was broken," Harry shrugged, feeling pleasantly warm. "You can fix it though?"

"Of course I can," Madam Pomfrey huffed. "What do you take me for?"

The special potion clearly did not extend to blocking the sort of agony experienced while resetting bones and Harry thought he must surely be hallucinating from the sheer torture of his treatments when he saw Professor Fiesche standing across the room, gazing down at a patient in one of the beds. The Professor looked as if his heart might break in two. Harry didn't have long to ponder it because the matron forced several more potions down his throat, muttering about him being unable to keep still and Harry soon drifted off to sleep still clutching tightly to Ginny's hand.


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51. Remembrance**

The first time Harry woke up it was dark and the hospital wing was silent. A lone figure was slumped in the chair by his head. Arthur's eyes were closed, his hands folded across his chest, soft snores emanating from his mouth. Harry was too tired to do anything more than sink back into his pillows and let sleep claim him again.

The second time Harry woke up a red-gold haze infused the Hospital wing. Harry turned his head to the window and watched the soft glow of the rising sun for a moment before he turned his attention to the chair by his bed. George's head lolled to the side, his feet were propped on Harry's bed and he snuffled slightly in his sleep. Harry peered past George to see Ron sleeping quietly in the next bed. The absence of his snores disturbed Harry more than he'd like to admit. For once, Ron was as quiet as the hospital wing and Harry soon drifted off.

The third time Harry woke up he could hear harsh whispers and paper rustling. An angry thwack punctuated the tense air. Harry debated pretending to sleep but he needed to use the toilet. He cracked one eye open to find Ron glaring at someone across his bed. That's when he realised the hissing he could hear belonged to Hermione. Harry sighed internally and opened his other eye.

"Do you mind?" he asked testily, trying out the mobility in his limbs.

"Harry!" Hermione was hovering over him in an instant.

"How're you feeling, mate?" Ron asked. Harry thought about it for a moment.

"Like I've been hit by a curse, knocked on the head and stuffed with enough potions to make my bladder stretch around the room and back," Harry replied tersely. "Can you two not stop fighting for one moment?"

"Fighting?" Hermione asked. "We're not fighting, we're-"

"Did you not hear the man, Hermione?" Ron demanded. "You're stressing his bladder!"

"Can we not discuss my bodily functions?" Harry whined.

"Well, we'll have to if you want to go-"

"Hermione!"

"Shut up, both of you," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "No point getting embarrassed about all that now. D'you think she never heard us last year in the bushes?"

"Ugh," Hermione said eloquently.

Harry sat up, shaking his head and wincing. The hospital wing was still and quiet except for the ruckus Ron and Hermione were making at his bedside. The curtains were drawn around several of the beds and the bathroom door beckoned at the end of the room. Harry wondered idly if he would be able to make it there and tested his injured leg carefully by wiggling his toes and foot impatiently.

"Should be all healed, but you don't want to take a chance," Ron said, peeling back Harry's bedclothes. "Pomfrey said to make sure you didn't try to walk on your own. She'll have my hide …" And suddenly Ron had hauled Harry's arm over his shoulder and was pulling Harry off the bed and down the aisle between the rows of beds.

"Ron-" Harry started to protest.

"Don't fight it," Hermione grumbled from behind them. "He's turned into a caveman."

Harry shook his head and let Ron half-drag him to the bathroom. He drew the line at Ron coming into the stall with him and slammed the door in his best friend's face.

"But they'll have my balls if I let you over do it!" Ron whined through the door. "Mum made me promise and Ginny threatened me with a Bat-Bogey!"

"I'm not overdoing it," Harry grumbled as he took care of the necessary tasks. Ron insisted on practically carrying him back to his bed and fluffing his pillows, setting one carefully under his injured leg and stealing one from the next bed to make sure Harry's head was carefully pillowed.

"I still say it's wrong," Hermione insisted when Harry was settled. She waved the newspaper in her hand emphatically, as if to prove her point.

"You need to stop worrying about it." Ron sighed heavily.

"It's a lie!" Hermione shrieked. "A complete and utter fabrication! They should be taken out and … and …"

"It's doesn't matter," Ron hissed vehemently. "Let it go!"

"Do you want to live the rest of your life like this?" Hermione demanded. "We should do something about this – and do it now!"

"Whatever you are fighting about, can you just stop?" Harry asked. "I want to know-"

"Oh, you're taking his side now!"

"I'm not taking anyone's side," Harry insisted, "seeing as I don't know what the sides are!"

"Here!" Hermione thrust _The Daily Prophet_ at him. Ron rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Harry as if daring him to disagree with her. Harry opened the paper out and smoothed it on his lap.

'_Anniversary in Tatters'_ proclaimed the headline. A large photograph of Percy defending Harry on the dais dominated the front page but it was the sub-heading and accompanying photographs that Harry knew had Hermione twitching.

'_Potter's Love Life also in Ruins'_

_Where was Harry Potter's fiancée while he lay bleeding to certain death yesterday? Probably not by his side if these pictures are any indication of the private life of our nation's most important figurehead are anything to go by._

Harry stopped reading and stared at the pictures of him and Hermione as he held her hand and leaned close to her to whisper something in her ear. A camera had documented every move he and Hermione had made from the time they'd appeared on the steps of Hogwarts until he'd risen to give his speech. It did look rather incriminating, Harry had to admit.

"They think Ginny has … has … _scorned_ you!" Hermione said forcefully. "They think _I_ am your new – new – your new … fling!" Ron sighed.

"I keep telling you, Hermione-"

"I can't believe you don't _care_!" Hermione shouted. A sudden rustling from one of the curtains across the room interrupted her tirade.

"Miss Granger," Professor Fiesche said icily. "If you cannot keep it down, perhaps you could take your histrionics _outside_?"

"Sorry Professor," muttered Hermione, subsiding and sinking back into her chair. Professor Fiesche glared at her again and retreated back behind the curtains surrounding the bed opposite.

"What's he doing here?" Harry asked quietly, discarding the paper on his bedside table.

"You don't care either?" Hermione hissed, snatching at the paper and waving it under his nose.

"Not really," Harry sighed, batting the newspaper way from his face. "Are you going to get this bent out of shape very time we're photographed together? It's going to happen, Hermione. I mean we'll be related-"

"Fiesche has stayed with that patient all night, George reckons," Ron interrupted suddenly, the tips of his ears red.

"We're not related!" Hermione said, slapping the paper down on Harry's bed.

"Which patient?" Harry asked, ignoring Hermione.

"I don't know," Ron said, leaning towards Harry and lowering his voice. "Those curtains have been drawn the whole time. Course, I've only be awake a couple hours – you took your time waking up, by the way – but George reckons-"

"Oh, what would George know, he was asleep half the night!" Hermione interjected, still clearly disgruntled.

"Well if you'd let me finish, you'd know he heard it from Dad and-"

"Can you please, just stop it?" Harry said desperately. "I don't know what's gotten into the pair of you but I feel like I'm back in fourth year!"

"Sorry," Hermione said quietly.

"Yeah, sorry mate," Ron added. The two of them settled back in their chairs.

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked to break the silence. "Is Percy okay?"

"Yeah, um Madam Pomfrey released Percy this morning," Ron said. "Ginny was sort of dragged out of here by Mum at about midnight. She was back about an hour ago but Mum made her go back to bed. I think they drugged her to stop her coming back."

"She needs to rest, Ron," Hermione said primly.

"Percy's gone into the Ministry to see if he can figure out what happened yesterday," Ron said, ignoring Hermione. "There's quite a bit of a stir going on, but they're not telling us much."

Harry sighed, closing his eyes. Things felt completely out of control. Everything had felt that way for several weeks now. He'd been avoiding dealing with anything that seemed remotely difficult or would dredge up any sort of memory or association with the day Voldemort had been defeated. It had only resulted in things feeling worse. Harry had avoided talking to Kingsley and tuned Percy out at every opportunity. Harry recognised now that Arthur had also tried to broach the subject of his future once he finished Hogwarts, but Harry had distracted him with something electrical from the dusty bench in his shed. It was no surprise he'd been somewhat blindsided the other day in McGonagall's office. Not really.

Harry Potter had spent the year hiding. While he didn't regret it, and probably even needed it, Harry knew it was time to face everything. There had been something going on the last few months that Ron had been willing to face. Something that George could see was a real threat but Harry refused to acknowledge. Hermione had paid more attention to the world around them than he had. She'd written an entire piece of legislation and set herself up with a job in the Ministry. Ginny had gone after her dream and made it come true. And Harry had earned a decent mark on a Potions project with Draco Malfoy and taught Gilbert Chumley how to play Monopoly. He wasn't ashamed of the things he had done this year but he knew he'd been deliberately ignoring and avoiding the unpleasant things. He suspected those around him were only too well aware of that and he wondered how long they had been planning to let him hide. Harry took a deep breath and threw back the bedcovers.

"Here, where d'you think you're going?" Ron asked, alarmed.

"Well I can't sit around in bed all day," Harry began.

"Sure you can," Ron argued. "You broke your leg and got a bump on your head and ... and you're Harry Potter!" Harry rolled his eyes.

"Ron, there's … I need to … do some things," Harry began.

"No, you don't," Ron practically stomped his foot. Harry raised an eyebrow at Ron's display but Ron kept going. "I mean I think you've done enough and … and people should be doing things for you!"

"Erm …" Harry was unsure what to say so he said nothing.

"Don't you think you deserve a break, Harry?" Ron persisted. "Take it easy; maybe go on a holiday or something."

"Ron, it's been a year and I've buried myself in this castle-"

"Ginny needed you!"

"That's not why I'm here, not really," Harry said.

"I think you're entitled-"

"Oh don't be ridiculous, Ron," Hermione chastised him. "Harry's sense of entitlement is so low it practically handicaps him!" Harry thought he detected a glint in her eyes that confirmed his theory about his friends knowing he'd been avoiding things.

"So I'll need my clothes," Harry prompted, testing his injured leg by flexing his foot and stretching his calf.

"Well they're shredded, aren't they," Ron replied with a smug smirk, "so you'll just have to get back into bed …" He punctuated his words by pushing Harry back into the bed and roughly pulling the covers over his lap.

"You could go and _get_ some for me," Harry said, undecided whether to be irritated or amused.

"Oh, no, you're not dragging me into this," Ron shook his head emphatically. "No, no, no." He stood firm and immovable at the foot of Harry's bed.

"Dragging you into this?" Hermione asked. "Aren't you glad he's finally _doing_ something?"

"Getting out of bed is not doing something," Ron scoffed. "Except maybe handing my bare neck to the womenfolk."

"Womenfolk?" Hermione glared at both of them.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron whined. "You know they'd both have me strung up-"

"I can't believe you're afraid of your mother," Hermione muttered.

"I can," Harry smirked, throwing the covers back again and scrambling out of bed.

"Oi!" Ron grumbled. "Go back to bed."

"No," said Harry, exasperated. "I'm fine, Ron. Let me go and sort things out."

"Who says you have to sort it out?" Ron demanded his voice rising again. "Haven't you done enough? Given enough? What else could anyone possibly want from you?"

The curtain around the bed opposite was flung open. Harry caught sight of a dark haired woman lying still on the bed, her face nearly as white as the sheets. Professor Fiesche was standing with the curtain clenched tightly in one fist and a thunderous look on his face.

"What anyone could possibly want, Mr Weasley, is a modicum of quiet and solitude in the hospital wing where there are people who are blatantly _unwell_!" The professor growled at the three of them, making Ron take a step back.

"We're really sorry, Professor," Hermione said hastily. "We'll keep it down."

"I don't think you lot know _how_," Professor Fiesche grumbled. "It'd be like asking you to stay out of bloody trouble!"

Harry looked critically at the Defence Professor. For the first time he looked as though he hadn't slept a wink. His hair was a mess and he had dark circles under his eyes. His face was pale and he seemed to tremble slightly.

"Are you all right, Professor?" Harry asked quietly. "Is your friend-"

"Perfectly fine, thank you, Potter," Fiesche said briskly. He straightened up a little. "But I would appreciate it if you would take your … conversations elsewhere to allow my – my … wife to rest." The professor retreated back to the bed and pulled the curtain shut.

"He's married?" Hermione whispered.

"Explains why he's been by that bed all night," Ron said.

"Where's his cat?" Harry wondered. Hermione just shrugged and picked up the newspaper again. Harry sighed heavily and tried to ignore her as she began complaining again about the photographs and captions.

"It doesn't matter," Ron said, leaning back in his chair while Harry bounced on the balls of his feet, testing his newly repaired limb. "The torrid affair you two are having will be yesterday's wrapping once they get a gander at your portrait." Hermione shuddered and Harry stopped bouncing to peer at Ron.

"Hang on, what portrait?" Harry looked at them in confusion.

"Oh, well …" Ron trailed off.

"Yes ... well that … thing is … unfortunate," Hermione muttered.

"Mum likes it …" Ron shrugged.

"What's wrong with it?" Harry asked slowly.

"That artist guy brought your free miniature thing this morning," Ron said hesitantly.

"It's dreadful," Hermione said with certainty.

"Where is it?" Harry asked curiously. Hermione reached down and pulled open the bottom drawer of his bedside cabinet. She bit her bottom lip hesitantly as she handed him a sloppily wrapped package, the brown paper and string hung loosely around a gilt frame. Harry pulled the wrappings back slowly and turned the frame over.

It was hideous.

"Is that … did he paint a _halo_ on this thing?" Harry asked in disbelief. Hermione nodded soberly.

"That's what it looks like," Ron agreed.

"And my hair … it's neat," Harry said.

"I personally think the pipe is the best touch," Hermione murmured. Harry stared in horror at the tiny table painted into the portrait. A brown pipe sat on the top, smoke curling out of it.

"There's no way they are putting this up," Harry said. "I look like a thirty-seven year old pimp!"

"Dragon hide boots are _not_ that shiny," Ron muttered.

"And you do not have a _cane_," Hermione said.

"Your mother _likes_ this?" Harry asked. Ron shrugged. Harry just shuddered. "Now do you see why I have to get out of bed and rejoin the land of the living?"

Ron nodded, still eyeing Harry warily as he stretched his foot and began to pace around his bed. They were silent for a moment before Ron spoke suddenly.

"What d'you think happened yesterday?" he asked in a low voice.

"Goodness, Ron," Harry said sarcastically. "I don't know … maybe a band of pink fairies came and stole everyone's innocence and turned us all into trolls." Ron rolled his eyes.

"I think we're clear on the fact that Professor Crockwell is not who she says she is," Hermione said, ignoring the sarcasm. "And it's pretty obvious she's more than a little upset about the loss of her sister-"

"Yeah, well, she's not the only one who lost someone," Ron growled suddenly. "It's not Harry's fault. I don't know why she had to go blame him-"

"We all blame someone, Ron," Hermione said quietly.

"Yeah, but it's not Harry's fault!"

"Gerald blamed me," Harry said quietly. "_George_ blamed me! I even blamed me for a while."

"Yeah, but normal people get over it," Ron said. "It's only demented people like her that can't get past it and make their own little army of Death Eater wannabes!"

"D'you think she's been the one – I mean all year … you know …" Harry stopped pacing and trailed off. Ron shrugged but Hermione nodded slowly. Harry sighed heavily and sat on the bed. He stared at the curtain around the bed where Professor Fiesche hovered over his wife. He was roused from contemplation by Neville who arrived quietly, shuffling his feet as he approached.

"Hey, Neville," Ron said idly.

"Hi," Neville said quietly. "How are you doing, Harry?" Harry just shrugged.

"How is ... everyone?" Hermione asked.

"Bit subdued, really," Neville replied. "Classes have been cancelled for the rest of the week and Slughorn's practically in charge because Flitwick and McGonagall are holed up in her office Flooing parents and writing Owls. The press is all over the gate but Hagrid sent Grawp down there …" Harry and Ron snickered. Hermione shook her head.

"Where's Crockwell?" Harry asked. Neville looked away and shrugged slightly.

"I think she's at The Ministry," he said. "There are still a lot of rumours going around about what happened. The whole school can see the Gryffindor room now. Professor Sinistra had to rope off the duelling room to stop that idiot Watson going through all the swords and daggers. I think … it's like we unlocked something, Harry."

"I'm sure you did," Hermione said. "The more I think about it, the more obvious it seems!" The three men stared at her expectantly.

"It might be obvious to you, Hermione," Ron said. "But we are mere mortals and not able to understand the workings of your superior intellect."

"Oh shut up," Hermione said, but she was smiling. "Well its Gryffindor's room, isn't it-"

"We got that much Hermione," Ron interrupted. She glared at him.

"Didn't you ever wonder why there were no other House rooms?" she asked, leaning forward slightly. "If Gryffindor has a room, where is Hufflepuff's room, where is Ravenclaw's?" She paused slightly.

"Slytherin …" said Ron. He shared a significant look with Harry.

"Didn't Slytherin have one?" Neville asked thoughtfully. "What was all that stuff about in second year, you know he built a secret Chamber didn't he, but McGonagall reckons it wasn't real – d'you think it might be real?" He looked excitedly at them. Harry nodded wryly.

"Yeah, we found Slytherin's," he said shortly. Neville just looked puzzled, as if he was trying to figure out where it was.

"I think each of the Founders built something into the castle," Hermione said, breaking the tension. "A special room, a place for them or their House, something apart from the common rooms, something that reflected the House in some way."

"So you reckon Gryffindor built a secret room that is _like_ Gryffindor?" Ron asked, brow furrowed.

"Don't you see, Ron?" Hermione said. "It's a ballroom and a duelling room!" Ron stared at her blankly. Hermione tried again. "Chivalry and bravery!"

"Yeah …" Ron's face showed dawning comprehension. Neville still looked a little perplexed.

"Well what about Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw then?"

"I don't know about Hufflepuff," Hermione admitted, "but where's the cleverest room in the castle?" Neville's eyes widened.

"The Room of Requirement," he said. Hermione nodded feverishly. "I think it must be. It just makes sense. Slytherin's Chamber is hidden and meant for … well it wasn't really meant for anyone and it was pretty hard to open." Ron just snorted and Neville looked so perplexed that Harry took pity on him.

"It opened with Parseltongue," he said quietly. "I'm pretty sure he only wanted his descendants to get in there."

"You got in there, didn't you?" Neville asked. Harry nodded. "He did it, didn't he? V-V-Voldemort? Gave you Parseltongue?"

"Yeah," Harry replied quietly. "Turned out to be a good thing otherwise we'd never have found the hidden entrance and been able to open it." Neville just nodded.

"See, they are all _hidden_," Hermione said suddenly. "There's something about them keeping them apart, keeping them hidden from everyone and only certain people and talents can access them. My guess, from the way it behaved and what Glenda said that only _true_ Gryffindors could get into that room and two of you at once unlocked it for everyone."

"I still say I'm a true Gryffindor," Ron grumbled.

"I'd have to do more research of course," Hermione said thoughtfully, ignoring Ron as he rolled his eyes. "I'd like to talk to Glenda again too, it's truly fascinating. She did disappear after all I would love to find out what exactly happened to her …"

"Well, we won't be here much longer anyway," Harry said. "I reckon I've spent too long here as it is. I need to face the world, not hide from it."

"Pity you couldn't do that to begin with," a sharp voice said. Harry looked up to see Professor Fiesche standing just outside the curtained bed, glaring at him. Harry just stared for a moment before collecting his wits.

"I'm sorry sir," Harry said, struggling to keep his tone respectful. "I'm not sure what you mean."

Professor Fiesche took a few steps towards Harry, his dragon hide boots barely making a noise on the flagstones of the hospital wing even though he was practically stomping towards the end of Harry's bed. Neville shrank back a little and Ron straightened in his chair, swinging his feet to the floor.

"It hasn't been easy trying to keep tabs on you," the professor said. He suddenly threw his arms wide and laughed. "I don't even know why I thought it would be but when you decided to come back and I couldn't convince you I had to think of _something_!"

Harry stared at the man, perplexed. Ron and Neville moved to stand between him and the professor. Hermione's brow was furrowed as she studied Professor Fiesche. The professor laughed suddenly, harshly.

"I'm sorry sir," Harry said, elbowing Ron aside. "I'm not sure I understand-"

"We thought it was Thistlewaite!" Professor Fiesche said with a humourless chuckle. "We thought he was planning to try something and all along it was that half-wit of a woman!"

"Perhaps you could start at the beginning," Hermione interjected. Her arms were crossed and she was glaring at the professor. Professor Fiesche ran a hand through his hair and glanced back at the bed behind him. He sighed heavily.

"Look, what is your deal?" Ron asked roughly. "We know you can't stand Harry, we just don't know why. And I'm telling you now that I don't do too well with people who want to hurt him."

"We weren't trying to hurt him!" the professor said in exasperation. "We were trying to protect him!"

"From what?" Neville asked.

"Whoever wanted him _dead_!" Fiesche snapped.

"How did you know someone wanted him dead?" Hermione asked. "And you knew about it but no one else did?"

"Do you know how I became an Auror, Miss Granger?" Professor Fiesche asked suddenly. Hermione shook her head. The professor sighed and began pacing. "We used to run a very respectable second-hand music shop. There wasn't much call for what we used to do in the middle of a war. Business went down." He stopped and glared at the four of them.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said simply. Professor Fiesche sighed.

"So when I saw the ad, I signed up." He ran his hands through his hair distractedly. "I assume they had lost a great deal of personnel and I'm not sure I'm terribly successful at the job. I have to presume they were desperate.

"Regardless, I didn't do anything too involved; a few patrols, just a bit of Muggle protection, things of that nature. You come across a lot of loose lips in that line of work. People talk when they shouldn't, reveal a lot more than they ought. I learnt more than one secret over the last few years. You don't get much respect though – not from the _real_ Aurors. It got even worse after You-Know-Who took over the Ministry. Most of us tried to work outside the Ministry – no decent witch or wizard could stomach what they were trying to do. Kingsley took as many of us as he could into his covert little operation but we were all back working for the Ministry once he got back into office."

"So, how did you end up at Hogwarts?"

"No one else wanted to come, did they?" Fiesche said. "It's not very glamorous when you can be out chasing down Dark wizards. But then I learned you were coming back." Fiesche stopped and gestured to Harry.

"What does that matter?" Ron asked impatiently.

"Because of what I _heard_," Fiesche said. He stopped pacing and stared at Harry for a moment before continuing. "I had Muggle protection detail at this safe house after the end of the war. Full of the most annoying Muggles imaginable and no idea why they were still under threat. Diggle reckoned there wasn't any danger, just complex memory altering needed before they could go home. It took a couple weeks. I heard more than one death threat against you." The professor gestured to Harry.

"Sounds like your uncle," Ron muttered. Harry just nodded tersely.

"No one took me seriously," Fiesche said, sounding quite affronted. "Said Dursley was a harmless old tosser and I should just ignore him. Most irregular in my opinion."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Harry sighed. "I'm quite sure my uncle is all bluster and no substance. He's been threatening that since before I could talk."

"Yes, but it meant no one took me seriously when I told them about the second man!" Professor Fiesche hissed.

"Second man?" Hermione asked.

"Yes!" Professor Fiesche said, sounding slightly exasperated. "The bloke in the pub! I heard him talking to his drinking fellows that he'd been _employed_ to get to Potter and take him out. I told that Weatherby fellow and he shunted me off to make a report and-"

"You told _Percy_?" Ron interrupted.

"Yes, that's the fellow," Fiesche confirmed. "Seemed awfully distracted."

"Well, there was a lot going on back then," Hermione allowed doubtfully. The professor snorted.

"Indeed," he drawled laconically. "Not the least of which was the pretty brunette he thought I didn't see hiding behind his door. I'm sure he was more anxious to get back to her than deal with my tale. Robards didn't seem to think too much of my report. They all but told me it was because I had lodged a failed report before."

"I still don't see how you ended up here?" Harry said, struggling to connect the dots.

"They told us we needed an Auror to take Defence classes," Fiesche continued. "Asked for volunteers but no one was that thrilled about it. We heard you were planning to attend and that's when I knew I had to keep you away, get you in the middle of the Aurors where you'd be protected. It doesn't take a genius to work out you'll be applying to the Aurors, was the worst kept secret in the Ministry anyway. You were supposed to ditch Hogwarts when I refused to teach you. They were supposed to throw you out!"

"You were trying to keep Harry out of Hogwarts?" Ron asked, brow furrowed. Fiesche nodded.

"Because you knew someone was after him?" Neville added.

"But no one believed you?" Hermione asked. Fiesche nodded.

"No one took my warning seriously about a threat. So … Priscilla came with me to keep an eye on you instead."

"Priscilla?" Harry asked, trying to remember where he heard the name before. Fiesche gestured to the bed behind him.

"My wife."

"Priscilla is the name of your cat," Neville exclaimed.

"Indeed, Mr Longbottom," was all the professor replied.

"Hang on, hang on," Ron said, holding up his hands. "You couldn't convince the Minstry that Harry had a death threat because the last time you reported one it was only his barmy uncle blustering so you became the Defence Professor in order to get Harry chucked out of Hogwarts so he could be surrounded by protective Aurors all day and when that didn't work you decided to act like his bodyguard instead."

"Yes, and find out who was behind it all," Professor Fiesche said, nodding. "It seemed like a good plan …"

"It was a stupid plan," Neville said flatly. Harry agreed with Neville.

"You know," Hermione said, "you could have told Harry."

"I couldn't risk it ... we couldn't risk it," Professor Fiesche said. "Priscilla said that if I got chucked from the Aurors for being barmy and lost this job … the shop was destroyed by Death Eaters, we lost all our inventory …" He shook his head decisively.

"I would have listened," Harry said quietly.

"Priscilla convinced me," the professor said simply. "She said she could help, she wouldn't risk my job, and then we saw Thistlewaite and we knew we could handle it."

"You thought it was Thistlewaite?"

"Yes … it turns out he's just very in awe of you and reckons he's the president of some fan club," Fiesche said, shaking his head. "We had tea one afternoon; the man has a shrine in his quarters …"

"You've got a fan club?" Ron asked, bemused. Harry glared at him.

"She promised me she shut that down!" Neville groaned. Harry turned to him and raised an eyebrow. Neville flushed beet red.

"It's thriving apparently," Professor Fiesche continued conversationally. "A bit risky during the war of course, but according to him, he's bringing it back up to its former glory, slowly but surely."

"And I didn't know about this because …?" Harry glared at Neville who gulped audibly.

"Don't blame her!" he cried. "It was Colin! He's the one who told her about fan clubs!"

"She hasn't had anything to do with that fan club for six years!" Hermione exclaimed, turning to Neville.

"_You_ knew about this?" Harry asked.

"I told you, it was Colin!" Neville protested. "In fourth year he tried to revive it but there was a lot of anti-Potter sentiment with Cedric and things … She promised me she'd shut it down," Neville said, almost wringing his hands. "After … the Third Task and … everything we talked, and she promised!"

"I guess someone else took it over," Hermione mused. "It would have had a bit of a fan base …"

"She said it was easy," Neville said. "Harry wasn't very popular the next year after all. Colin was a bit hesitant but she convinced him, made Michael have a word to him, which seemed to do the trick. I swear she told me it was shut down."

"Are we talking about _Ginny_?" Harry asked, eyes narrowed. Neville wouldn't look at him. Harry sighed and rolled his eyes.

"The point is," Fiesche said peevishly, "that it wasn't Thistlewaite – as obsessed as he is with you, Potter. If you'd just gone out to work with the Aurors like a reasonable person, a _normal_ person, my wife wouldn't have spent all year pretending to be a spy and wouldn't be lying in a hospital bed right now!"

Harry didn't know how to respond. He had agonised over the decisions he should make and it seemed he still got them wrong. He vaguely heard Ron and Hermione arguing with the professor but Harry couldn't concentrate on that. His head was starting to throb and he rubbed irritably at his forehead.

"Harry," said Hermione suddenly. She was staring at him. Harry raised an eyebrow at her and gave his forehead one last frustrated rub before dropping his hand.

"What?"

"Is your scar hurting?" she asked urgently, stepping forward.

Harry laughed.

"It's not funny," Ron almost growled. Harry raised his hands in mock surrender, his gaze darting between his two friends.

"Sorry," he spluttered. "No, it's not that! My head just hurts from colliding with that stupid urn yesterday."

Hermione sighed heavily. Harry realised that Fiesche had disappeared.

"Where'd the professor go?"

"Back to his wife," Hermione said. "Poor thing's beside himself."

"If you've got a headache, Harry, you should be lying down-"

"Ron," Harry interrupted. "Not now." Ron just glared at him until Harry sighed in defeat and sat on the edge of his bed, raising an eyebrow as if to ask if Ron was satisfied. Ron gave a staccato grunt and looked away.

Neville shuffled awkwardly in the silence. His uncertainty was short-lived when a burst of noise echoed from the doorway of the hospital wing. Ron groaned as they recognised the shrill voice of his mother.

"-don't know what you could possibly have been thinking! Of all the times to-"

"Molly, dear," Arthur remonstrated, laying a hand on her arm as they spilled through the door. "Let it go." Molly looked at Arthur as if stung.

"Let it go?" she shrieked. "Let it _go_?"

Arthur just nodded, a smirk playing on the edges of his mouth.

"Capital idea, Dad," George interjected from behind his parents.

"You stay out of it," Molly growled, turning on her son who merely grinned. Harry tuned them out as George began protesting his complete and utter innocence regarding the mysterious fireworks that had suddenly exploded over the heads of a group of journalists and began chasing them away from the gate and towards Hogsmeade. Apparently more than one journalist had been convinced that they were being attacked by the next Dark Lord and a wand fight had broken out. Madam Pomfrey was out tending to several broken bones and a number of bad jinx combinations.

Ginny trailed after George and was shaking her head in resignation as he tried to placate his mother. There was a large bandage wrapped around her upper arm and she was paler than normal, dark circles marred her delicate features and she looked worried, her gaze flickering between George and her mother. Arthur pulled her close to his side and whispered something to her. Ginny nodded, smiling slightly before she locked her gaze with Harry's. Then she was in his arms, her face buried in his chest, her arms wound tightly around his neck.

Harry pulled her close and ignored everyone else in the room. He vaguely heard Molly clucking over his ugly portrait miniature, he knew Neville and Ron had distracted George before he drove his mother nuts, and he heard Hermione start a conversation with Arthur about working at the Ministry, but all his attention was on Ginny, who sighed into his pyjamas and began stroking the back of his neck with feather light touches.

"Hi," he said into her hair. He felt Ginny tilt her head to place a soft kiss on his neck. Suddenly Harry wished they were alone. With great difficulty he resisted kissing her senseless, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of her head.

"You're all right," Ginny mumbled. "I know they said you were but-"

"I'm all right." Harry cut her off. "Are you?" Ginny nodded.

"I didn't want to leave you," Ginny admitted. "I just … they kicked me out. I just wanted to be sure you were all right, you passed out so quickly and Madam Pomfrey was just so busy she wouldn't tell me anything and Percy wanted to move you to St Mungo's and he and George got into a fight and Ron and Jonathon had to take them out to cool off and my arm was hurting and-"

"St Mungo's?" Harry asked, eyebrow raised. "Why would Percy want to do that?"

"Something about expert healers or security," Ginny said. "Percy's taking it pretty badly that something happened to you when he was supposed to take care of the details."

"Well if he'd listened to Fiesche in the first place," Ron broke in. Ginny drew her brows together, puzzled. Harry filled them in with Neville and Hermione filling in the parts he left out. Ron sat glowering at the closed curtains of the bed opposite.

"So his wife must be an Animagus and has been trying to keep an eye on Harry this whole time," Neville finished with a shrug.

"And it's just been Crockwell all along?" George queried. "Because Old whatsherface the Muggle Studies teacher was her sister, and you took too long … ending things?"

"Honestly," Molly huffed. "Some people just _look_ for others to blame because of their problems. It's not _your_ fault Harry, dear."

"I know," Harry said quietly. Ron gasped in faux amazement and Harry's fingers itched to gesture rudely at him.

"I'm just so glad I got to you in time," Ginny's voice cracked alarmingly and Harry pulled her closer, scooting them both back onto the bed.

"How did you get in there?" Harry asked quietly. Ginny pulled the amulet from under her shirt.

"I think it must have been this," she said quietly. She stole a quick look at George who was still smirking slightly. "When you and Percy vanished … George went mental. He went completely bonkers."

"I was a little distressed," George allowed with a wry smile. He shrugged apologetically but didn't say anything else.

"I thought Bill was about to stun him," Ginny continued. "Then Ron and Hermione and Neville just disappeared too, I think both of us were ready to tear the place apart." Ginny pulled a face.

"It was very confusing," Molly added softly.

"I didn't know why you'd vanished," Ginny said, turning back to Harry. "Dad explained about the Portkeys and Kinglsey and the other Aurors were getting things under control, so we just ran like hell. You weren't in the hospital wing though."

"We changed the safe location to the common room." Percy's voice was weary as he walked into the hospital wing, stopping at the foot of Harry's bed. His hair was a tousled mess and he looked like he'd not slept all night. "Added security. Only Kingsley knew the real destination."

"Have you slept, Percy?" Arthur asked. Percy shook his head wearily.

"We've processed Crockwell and found out who was working for her," he added. "She used to work in the Department of Mysteries before the Ministry was … taken over. She's one of only two people who know where the unplottable Quintaped island is. We're not sure but we think she managed to hypnotwist an Auror."

"Hypnotise," Hermione muttered, glowering.

"She was spouting a lot of nonsense about Muggles and being Muggleborn," Percy went on, ignoring her. "Some rot about not being able to rely on magic. She went quite mad with grief in the end I think."

"Have you spoken to Fiesche?" Ron jerked his thumb at the curtained bed opposite Harry's. Percy shook his head.

"Should I?"

"Yes," hissed Ron. "Because if you had listened to him _before_ then we wouldn't be _in_ this mess and Harry wouldn't have been in any danger at all." Percy sighed heavily and massaged his forehead wearily.

"There's been a lot going on." Arthur spoke firmly, all three of his sons looked up at him. Ginny leaned further into Harry but turned her head to look at her father. Arthur continued, resting his hand on his wife's knee. "We've had to deal with a lot this past year and it hasn't been easy but … I'm proud of you – all of you." Arthur looked at each of his children in turn and then his gaze rested on Harry. "We're not perfect and we've made a few mistakes along the way … and we're probably going to make a lot more. There's a long way to go but we've managed to come this far – together, and that makes an old man very proud indeed."

"Dad, you're not that old," Ron said idly.

"I feel it," Arthur said, sighing. He patted Molly's knee and straightened up. "It's good to see you up and about, Harry."

"Thank you," Harry said quietly. "I'm feeling much better."

"When's Pomfrey going to bust you?" George asked idly. Harry just shrugged.

"Wish she'd hurry up," Ron muttered. "I'm starved."

"Oh here," Hermione said, exasperated as she searched her bag. "Have a chocolate frog. That should tide you over until we make it to the Great Hall." She thrust a rather squashed looking frog at Ron who grinned and tore it open. He groaned as he inspected the card.

"I do not need another one of the stupid witch who invented the tea warming charm," he said, biting the head off the frog. "Iss no' even a new un!"

"That's a very useful charm," Molly murmured absently.

"Yeah but I want a Harry Potter card," pouted Ron. "Gilbert told me there's a pool on to see who'll get it first. Best odds are on a Gryffindor."

"I don't even want to know what that means," Hermione said, picking up the paper she had been scowling at earlier. She folded it carefully and stowed it in her bag. She started tidying the bedside table, re-wrapping the mini portrait and gathering the potion bottles that had been discarded there.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Harry asked her. His friend stopped her fussing abruptly.

"Nothing."

"It's hard starting again, isn't it?" Molly broke in softly.

"But we have started again," scoffed Hermione, straightening Harry's pillows.

"Not really, dear," Molly said. "It's been a bit more like … existing. It was like that last time was well. Very exciting at first and then … then you don't quite know what to do with yourself and life just goes on and you follow it but … it happens to you, you don't make it happen."

"That's silly," Hermione said. "I've done all sorts of things this year."

"I haven't," said Ron idly spinning the chocolate frog card on his finger tip. "I mean I've been busy and all but …"

"I think you'd all be surprised at exactly what you have done," Arthur interjected.

"It's a bit blurry though, innit?" George said.

"Yeah, well, you were drunk for half of it," Ron said without venom. George shrugged.

"Boys," Molly said with a groan.

"There are lots of good things, exciting things ahead of us," Arthur said bracingly. "It's time to start savouring them, really drinking them in."

Harry nodded. He suddenly felt ready, for the first time since Voldemort was gone, to face the world. He felt ready to be an Auror. He felt ready to be Teddy's godfather. He felt ready to break out and find out who he was. He was itching to finish school and go to work keeping people safe. There was no denying that this was what he was meant to do. There were still Dark wizards out there. Greyback was still out there. And Harry wanted to be a part of protecting people from that. His smile grew as he thought of how much Teddy had grown and how much more capable he felt than the first time he'd held the tiny baby. For the first time since he was eleven, and Hagrid had told him who he was, Harry didn't really know who he was. But it didn't matter because Harry couldn't wait to find out who Harry Potter was now, what sort of man the boy had really become.

"You're smiling," Ginny said quietly as Madam Pomfrey bustled up the aisle between the beds.

"I'm happy," Harry said. And he realised that he was, for the first time in a long time, just happy.

"Well, I hope she's happy to let you out of here," Ron grumbled, jerking his head at the matron. "Lunch'll be over soon."

"I'm sure you'll not starve, Mr Weasley," Madam Pomfrey said briskly as she straightened the sheets on the next bed. She turned and looked at Harry critically. "Why are you still here, Potter? Get dressed and get out of my hospital wing. And I don't want to see you back here, ever. Surely even you can stay injury-free until the end of exams?"

"I'll get some cotton wool to wrap him in," George said cheekily. Harry gestured rudely at him and then swore as Molly Weasley's wand came down hard on his knuckles.

"And you watch that mouth too," she said sternly. Harry burst out laughing as Ron and George cheered.

"Finally," George crowed. "You know you're really part of the family when you get rapped on the knuckles for flipping the bird!"

"She may have even stopped playing favourites!" Ron chuckled.

"Of course not," Molly said as she stood up. "If that had been you I would have used the Scouring charm for that disgusting language." Ron's face fell and Harry fell backwards laughing.

"We'll leave you to get dressed, Harry," Arthur said as he ushered his wife towards the door. "Come on, Ron, I thought you were hungry?"

One by one, his family shuffled out of the hospital wing until only Ginny was left. Harry pulled her close for a moment before kissing her softly.

"Meet you down at lunch?" he asked. Ginny nodded and slipped out of his arms and through the doors. Harry dressed slowly and collected his wand from the nightstand. His leg ached dully where it had been broken but he ignored it and ambled down to the Great Hall.

He pushed the door open to hear loud chatter from the overflowing Hall. Several Aurors and a few parents joined the students for the midday meal. Harry smiled as he watched Ron and Ginny in an arm wrestle at one end of Gryffindor table as George talked to Angelina's tummy. Bert and Jonathon were still there and sat talking avidly to Neville and Luna, who was perched on the edge of the Gryffindor table wearing her Lion hat. Hermione was reading a dusty old book and Percy was sitting next to Audrey at the Ravenclaw table, her head on his shoulder as they ate.

"You _have_ to do something!" a shrill voice pierced the air and a small, dark Slytherin was storming towards him, trailed by Gilbert and Dexter, Bart clutched firmly in his grip.

"What's up, Gertrude?" Harry asked indulgently.

"He's got the card and it's just stupid because he doesn't even collect them!" Gertrude screeched.

"Don't' be stupid," Gilbert scowled. "There's no way that's the card."

"But he won't even let us _see_ it!" Gertrude stomped her foot for emphasis.

"It is a bit mean," Dexter said. The toad croaked balefully.

"Who are you talking about?" Harry asked. Gertrude gestured to the Slytherin table where Draco Malfoy was smirking and spinning a chocolate frog card on the table.

"He won't let me have it!" Gertrude whined.

"Well … it is his," Gilbert allowed reluctantly. Gertrude glowered at him.

"What do you want me to do?" Harry asked gently. "If it's his card-"

"But it's not!" Gertrude exploded. "It's yours! He's got it and he won't even show us!"

"How did Malfoy get any of my chocolate frog cards?" Harry's free mood was dissipating rapidly.

"He bought it," Gertrude glowered. "I buy them all the time and I never got it. He buys just _one_ and he's got it!"

"He can't buy my collection," Harry said. Gertrude rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand impatiently. She began dragging him to the Slytherin table. Harry looked up to find Ginny watching him with amusement. He smiled at her and shrugged as he followed the first year.

"Show him!" Gertrude demanded when she was standing in front of Malfoy, her little fists planted firmly on her hips, glaring at Malfoy.

"Why?" Malfoy drawled lazily.

"Oh, stop teasing the Firsties, Draco," sighed the girl next to him who Harry recognised at the sixth year Prefect that had been hanging all over Malfoy for most of the year.

"Oh, all right," Malfoy said. He looked at Dexter. "But I want a share of that pot, midget." Dexter just glared at him and Malfoy flipped the chocolate frog card in his hand towards Harry.

Reaching out, Harry snatched it out of the air as if it was a Snitch and flipped it over to peer at the cause of so much anguish. He nearly dropped it in astonishment while Malfoy smirked innocently from behind his dessert plate.

"Reckon the Weaslette is entitled to that one," Malfoy said as he pushed his chair back and stood up. "You should thank me for saving it from the Firstie vultures."

Harry ignored him, staring at the card in his hand. Dumbledore was right. There was nothing quite like having your own chocolate frog card.

Harry Potter

The first witch or wizard to survive the Killing Curse, earning the title "The Boy Who Lived" in 1981. He's is most famously known for the defeat of the most dark wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort, in 1998.

Harry Potter was the youngest Seeker in a century when selected for the Gryffindor Quidditch team in his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Mr Potter is engaged to Ginevra Weasley and enjoys playing Quidditch and flinging Garden Gnomes.

A slow smile spread over Harry's face as he watched his image stalk to the edge of the frame. He had a feeling things would be getting better.

And he couldn't wait for the rest of his life to begin.


End file.
